


Panta Rhei

by Notasmuch



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-17
Updated: 2011-04-17
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 71,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notasmuch/pseuds/Notasmuch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a story of how Jensen and Dean met, hooked up, started falling in love, and what happened during and after, way back in 2001.<br/>It keeps to both canons as much as possible, it even explains the impossible at one point :)<br/>Dean is 29 Jensen is 23 (I changed very little, I simply moved entire SPN timeline 7 years back)</p><p>I don't own Dean or Sam, they are Kripke's creations, and I'm not claiming any of the PRF bits are true, even the ones I read in gossip mags.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: S1 and S2  
> The fic was originally posted in 2008.  
> Panta Rhei means - all things are in constant flux ... I think it suits the way this was written.
> 
> It is sadly not crack, unless it cracks you up on principle :)
> 
> As of September 2nd 2008 partially betaed by southernsayings@LJ
> 
> There's a note for the "underage" warning that I put in the end notes for spoilerphobic. Pretty detailed.
> 
> ETA: A lot of commas and other little marks got lost in the transport from Word to LJ to AO3. I'm gonna be fixing them through the next few days.

Dean stepped out of the car. Closed the door. Made a step towards the house. And then another.

" _Good work_ " he thought. " _Ten more steps and you'll be home._ "

But he stood in the same spot instead, looking at the big _pink_ house in front of him.

 _What the hell is "home" anyway?_ Home was the smell of leather in the Impala. Home was Sammy. Home was what burned down and didn't exist any more.

Except now home seemed to be also pink and smelled maybe a bit like chili. At least there was still Sammy.

It had been about a year since they killed the Yellow eyed demon. A bit over a year since the day he made the deal to save Sam's life. And how fortunate was it, that the deal was held by the Old Yeller himself? One year exactly from Sam's re-birth they both got drunk, threw up all around the Impala and woke up lying on the beach, local kids poking them with sticks to see if they're alive. Dean had maybe for a moment thought he wished he wasn't. But then he remembered _why_ he ended up there in the first place and suddenly the construction worker trying to hammer his way out of Dean's head hadn't seemed like such a big deal.

Now here he was, back from the hunt - and a day early too, Sammy probably still asleep - looking at his ... home.

"So. Pink."

"You know," Sam suddenly appeared at his side, hugging a brown bag, munching on a donut "one of these days you will have to either get over it or paint the building something manly. What's a manly building-color. Brown? Black? Baby blue?"

Dean's laser eyes burned a gaping hole in Sam's skull and he fell on the floor begging for mercy but it was too late. His brain was fried.  
Or at least that's what should have happened. Instead, Sam snickered at Dean's eyes of doom and took another bite of his donut.

"Yes Sammy, baby blue _is_ manly. Just like your hair. It's a miracle you never get laid."

Sam stuck his tongue out - _yuck, chocolate_ \- and walked towards the door. "You coming or do you want another moment to bond with the pink?"

A few minutes later Dean was leaning over the table, digging through the bag of goodies Sam bought, looking to steal some of Sam's breakfast. He soon realized the bag had way more food than Sam would ever eat this time of day. "How'd you know I was coming so early?"

"I didn't."

Dean would have teased, really, he would have. But there was food, and coffee, and Dean would never bite the hand that feeds him, especially if it fed him chocolate glazed donuts.

He drank half his coffee and ate at least 2 donuts before Sam spoke again. "So, you killed it?"

"Yeah, salt and burn. Nice work on the research, college boy."

Sam let his eyes say "fuck you" as he got up to throw away his paper cup and Dean just smiled. Sam was back at university now. UCLA, studying history of all things. Law was kinda out of the question after living on the other side of it for so long.  
Even if all their records were happily destroyed or altered to "free of all charges" by former agent Hendricksen once he saw the error of his ways, (and there was one hunter Dean would work with any day), it was too big of a risk to take. There was always a chance that any career he might manage to build would be destroyed by one too many questions.  
So in a way, Sam settled for less, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact he seemed happy. And, when he thought about it, Dean was pretty happy himself. This was working out. Sam studying, doing research when Dean needed it. Dean hunting and sometimes even working day jobs. Sometimes, though, hustling daddy's boys on pool, 'cause he still could and 'cause they didn't seem to mind as long as he got them a round of drinks when he was done. Sam didn't really approve, but as long as Dean didn't hustle any of _his_ friends, he kept the bitching to a minimum.

"And how did you spend this lonely, brotherless weekend?" Dean asked.

"I met someone actually."

"Yeah? Blond, brunette or redhead?"

"Um... dirty blond I guess."

"Dirty huh?"

Sam's eyes were doing some talking again but Dean chose to ignore them. "Does that mean we're going out tonight? Do I get to meet her?"

"Him, and no, not tonight, but I'm hoping he'll be there next weekend, I really want you to meet him."

"Um, Sammy, I know I joke you're a girl, but you do realize you're actually _not_ , right?" Which might have been a slightly hypocritical thing to say, since Dean had been known to hook up with men as much as he did with girls, but Sam wasn't. And if Sam'd been holding out on him, Dean was gonna... well, probably be all understanding and then mock a lot, but still, it was the principle of the thing.

Sam's rolling eyes didn't say much this time. "Yes, Dean, thank you. And it's not like that. But I don't want to tell you, you have to see it."

"It?"

"You'll see."

"Next weekend?"

"Yeah, I hope."

"Okay." Sam was being cryptic but didn't seem to be bothered by anything so Dean decided to be patient and let it go. For now. 

\--

Jensen was standing in front of a mirror in the bathroom of the set and trying very hard not to talk to himself out loud. Life is hard enough without everyone thinking you need to be locked up in a room with padded walls for your own safety.

_Okay, so life isn't the best at the moment. But you love the job, this is what you worked for, this is what you wanted. You knew it wasn't gonna be easy._  
I didn't know the hard part was gonna be trying not to punch a woman in the face.  
Yes well, your mama taught you better.  
Right.  
Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Jensen.   
Fine, so I love the job. Just not THIS job.  
You love Alec.  
... I do. 

Jensen smiled thinking of Alec. His snarky character was so much what he himself needed sometimes. Jensen knew people found him attractive, he knew they liked to watch him and touch him and hell, sometimes he didn't even mind it. But Alec... Alec worked his looks. He was like a hooker who only put out under his own terms. He gave as much as he chose and not an inch more, and he took what he wanted in return. Always looking out for number one. Put up a front, don't let them see the real you, but don't turn into a bastard on the inside either. He can draw from that. He can act that. He just needed to not hit anyone.

He looked into his own eyes in the mirror and smirked at himself. "Come on bitch, let's get this show on the road."

Jensen got two weeks off after the shoot of the third episode, as Alec disappeared into hiding, ashamed of what his selfishness had cost Max. Jensen's family wanted him to come visit, and with his career making headway perhaps he might actually do it. At least the cousins could finally stove the come-home-and-be-a-good-boy preaching. Seemed appearing next to Alba made you the coolest thing in your family since your mother's brother bought a Harley and started wearing leather jackets well into his midlife crisis.

Chances were though, he'd spend most of his break in LA. Try to catch up with Steve and possibly even Christian. Drag his guitar out and then try to remind himself why he did this in the first place.

But while he was at it, he'd try really hard to avoid the bar he was in the last week before the shooting started. The guy he'd met must have been an Eric Brady fan. Floppy haired giant spent some half an hour staring at him, and Jensen was sure going over there and offering to buy him a drink would lead to many good things. Mainly the guy's hopefully proportional dick in his ass. But no, when he had approached and offered the drink, full on with Alec's flirty smirk, the guy suddenly realized he was not gay after all, made a face like he'd been offered a sweaty sock to suck on and shook his head _no no no_. Jensen retreated, but when he looked back the guy was staring again, avoiding eye contact this time though. So yeah, trying to avoid creepy-soap-opera-watchers this time around.

\--

It had been almost four weeks since Sam had seen mini-Dean in the local bar. The guy had looked so much like his brother it was downright scary. If he was a few years older, Sam would have sworn it was a shape shifter. He was still considering if that was an option when the kid approached him and offered to buy him a drink.  
Not a big surprise really, since he spent the better part of the evening staring right at him, but just as Sam was about to politely say "No thank you, you just look very much like my brother", the kid smirked. And the smirk was so _Dean_ that Sam suddenly felt like one of the skirts Dean was always chasing, which in turn made him feel like he was being hit on by his brother and that was just ten shades of wrong.

He made a face to accompany that thought, and was suddenly brought back to reality in which the person in front of him was definitely _not_ his brother; panic on the kid's face acting as a subtle reminder.  
He tried to gather his thoughts enough to explain that no, he isn't a gay basher and wasn't gonna beat anyone up, but mini-Dean was already apologizing and paddling back to his seat, throwing him one last confused glance.  
Sam sat there a while longer wondering if he should try and explain but decided the best way to explain _that_ would be to bring Dean and give the kid a look into the future.

Since Dean came back from the hunt though, he hadn't seen Jensen - because that was mini-Dean's name - in the bar any more. The waitress that told him Jensen's name had also said he was some sort of an actor, and as Sam googled him he saw that yeah, he was in fact mini-Dean, it wasn't just the lighting in the bar. Jensen was 23, green eyes and dirty blond hair. _Dirty blond._ Sam rolled his eyes at the pointless crap that got stuck in his memory. That he then of course _had_ to spill in front of Dean, as if he didn't know his brother was in fact twelve years old and just discovering that some words have more than one meaning.

Still. The bar was as nice as a bar can be, the beer was cheap, waitresses not nearly slutty enough to get Dean into trouble and there were peanuts. Two of these things made Dean very happy and one made him very sad, and Sam decided that was a good trade-off. So they continued going there even if Jensen didn't show up again.

\--

Dean played with his beer, checking out the couple in one of the corner booths. The guy must have been either married or homeless 'cause they were making out like there was no tomorrow and were one step from needing to be somewhere not public, but neither was making a move to leave so hey, maybe he was gonna get a show at least. Since there was no action to be had with the incredibly hot, perky waitress who totally avoided his no longer subtle innuendos.

He turned towards Sam frowning to let him know he knew exactly why he was being dragged to _this_ particular bar out of entire California, when he saw Sam's "Christmas came early" face. He tried to see what Sam was looking at but whatever was going on was hidden by a bunch of guys who just walked in.

"That's him!" Sam's voice in his ear had him frowning again. _Who the..._ and then he noticed. The guy standing at the door was Dean's "picture in the attic". A shape shifter who took his looks some years ago and found it hard to part with him? Dean could hardly blame the man. Thing. Whatever.  
He frowned even deeper and then saw the shape shifter frown too. Only it was looking at Sam, not Dean. Sam, who was still giddy like a nun with a massage shower.

"What the hell Sam, why didn't you tell me about this? We have to kill it."

Now it was Sam's turn to frown, and if the night continued like this someone's face was gonna be stuck permanently on "not-happy". "No. No, man, he's real. A person. I looked him up. He's an actor." Sam ... chirped.

Dean wasn't convinced but he let himself relax marginally and take a detailed look at the actor.

"Jensen. His name is Jensen. Ackles. He's from Texas."

Dean lifted a brow in his brother's direction. "Why do you even know this? When'd you meet him?"

Sam opened his mouth to, Dean guessed, chirp some more, but then suddenly looked down at the table, the beer, and then somewhere on the floor. Dean _really_ wanted to hear this.  
"He's the guy I told you I met like a month ago. He... Well, I was staring at him and he, you know, came to me and ... wanted to buy me a drink."

Dean stared for a heartbeat or two and than cracked up, actually laughing like he hasn't in a good while. Sam gave him the annoyed stare and he couldn't help but laugh even louder, clasping a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Awww Sammy, did the evil little boy hit on you?"

Sam's eyes were now trying to convey the horror of the experience to him and Dean smiled wildly and turned again to look for his double who had moved with his friends to sit at a table almost across the room.

When his eyes landed on the _boy_ in question though, whatever he was gonna tease next got stuck in his throat. Jensen's eyes were on his lips and it was as if he'd only just noticed Dean sitting there. Dean licked his lips and watched Jensen's eyes flick up to meet his, then burn their path over Dean's face. There didn't seem to be any shocked recognition in Jensen's face, just... hunger?  
Dean felt a similar pull at the bottom of his stomach and his dick twitched even as his brain snorted _"Ego much?"_

He noticed the kid's skin was paler than his own and wondered if their eyes were the same color. Jensen's fingers were nervously touching the opening of the bottle and Dean could almost feel them circling the head of his dick, sliding between his ass cheeks and opening him. He choked some air through his closed throat and brought his eyes back to Jensen's teeth biting into his lip. And he had to stop looking now or he was gonna rub himself on the first surface he could find in front of the entire bar.

As he was forcing himself back to reality, pretending not to feel Jensen's eyes on every visible part of his body, he realized Sam was talking, in his "this is important" voice. "... thought I was gonna beat him up or something."

"What? Why? Jensen? Why would you beat him up?"

Sam looked at him like he was dropped on his head one too many times as a child. "Man, were you even listening to me?"

Dean's look answered for him and Sam rolled his eyes, again, and told Dean about the night he met Jensen. How he messed it up, and how Jensen probably thought he was gonna jump him in an alley with a baseball bat now. He looked kinda sad about it and Dean smiled at him to reassure him. That Dean would always be there to laugh at him when he made a fool of himself.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam asked, serious now.

"Hm?"

"You think we should go talk to him?"

"I don't know, man, he didn't seem to do the whole recognition thing. If he thinks you're a freak now how fast d'you think he'd run if we came over and started explaining how he's just like me only not so much."

"I suppose." Sam let it drop and started talking about his "eccentric" can-collecting professor of something or other.

But Dean felt the young actor's gaze on him and remembered the flick of the tongue as it wet those full lips, and wondered if he could go the night without trying to taste them himself.

\--

Jensen was going crazy. When he first came in and saw the nut-job he thought he was gonna spend the night trying to coordinate his pissing needs with random bar-dwellers, so he'd never be alone anywhere where the guy could get to him. He was just taking a seat across the room, where he could keep an eye on him, when a laughter boomed from the corner he was obsessing over.

He looked up suddenly and felt his heart stop and his dick wake up. Nut-job had a friend. Who laughed with his head tossed back, his neck on display. Jensen wanted to taste, to bite and mark and then lick and soothe. It was a fragment of a minute, he didn't even see the man's full face, shadows of the bar hiding it. Just the neck and the arms, pure lean muscle, strong shoulders stretching the black tee, hand grasping the bottle. There was no reason, no reason at all why he should want to feel this man's hands on his face, or the man's tongue open his lips to taste his own. But he did. So he just sat there waiting to get a glimpse of the stranger's face as his friends chatted around him.

And now he knew. The man across the room had the most beautiful face he'd ever seen. Even from this distance and under the crappy lighting.

His short hair was spiked in a way that made Jensen think of morning sex and showers. His lips were full, not as pouty as Jensen's own, not cock-sucking lips, but perfect for kissing, long and leisurely. He couldn't really see the eyes, but he could feel them. Everywhere. And he wanted to take his clothes off and stand in front of that man and tell him "here, this is all I am, and it's yours". _Jesus Jensen, you're losing it. The guy is clearly friends with the freak, which means "probably" homophobic, and "probably" also insane. He doesn't want you in any way, and certainly not naked. Get a grip._

Granted, Jensen might have been taking the whole insane-giant thing too far. But he'd been in the camera's eye for long enough to know what kind of people he attracted. And they usually wanted to either fuck him, or scream at him, at Eric, for abandoning his lovely wife who loved him so very much.

He kept on looking though, as discreetly as possible, while trying to maintain some semblance of conversation with his friends. He wanted to drink, to get so drunk he couldn't remember his name and his friends had to drag him outside and he'd throw up in the cab. But he didn't really want to become the new Robert Downey, Jr. And that left him in the "drink reasonably" department, which he hated. He loved it when his brain got to relax. Just let go of all the strings keeping him stretched so tightly, always in line, always polite, never too much. He wanted to scream and throw a fit; laugh like a maniac at nothing funny at all. But he knew he couldn't. There were appearances to keep, people to please, his own expectations to fulfill. What he did in his personal life would always reflect on his career, just like his career always controlled his personal life.

Still, it didn't stop him from wanting. He could always want. As long as he didn't actually take.  
\--

Some of the local girls finally submitted to his and ... well, mostly his, charm, and Dean was at last happily settled, with a girl pushing her breasts at his arm and blowing her breath, smelling of something fruity and definitely full of alcohol, in his face. His hand was traveling inside her thighs towards the _warmwetsoft_ , when he caught movement across the room and looked above her head at Jensen. Who was about to pass their table on his way to the men's room.

He knew Sammy would know, he knew the girl would be pissed, he knew there was a chance all of that would happen for nothing if Jensen said no. But he decided it was worth it.

As the men's room door closed behind Jensen, Dean slid the girl out of the booth and went after him. Sam gave him a strange look but didn't comment. Sometimes baby brother was smarter than he gave him credit for.

Men generally don't like sharing their toilet experiences with other people, so when Dean walked in, there was just him and Jensen in the room. Dean stopped for a moment to try and figure out what next. It's not like he came in with a full on plan.

He decided to wait for Jensen to finish - _let Jensen think he was a creep, it's not like he wants to hold hands_ \- and washed his hands to buy time. He noticed the other man become fidgety, but from what Sam told him, he realized it was probably for the wrong reasons.

However, Dean had drank just about enough to lose the world "subtlety" from his dictionary. He leaned against the door and cocked his head, watching Jensen's back, then looking at him move to wash his hands and caught a painful mix of fear and resolve on the boy's - 'cause that's what he looked like now - face. He tried to remember how his body looked a few years back, but all he knew for sure was that he was always pure muscle, more often than not - achy muscle. This kid was leaner, more subtle strength perhaps, but more than appearance the distinction was in the attitude, in the way Jensen kept his eyes down and his body stiff.

Until he was all done that is, and he came to stand before Dean, looking him in the eyes - and god, Dean could get lost in that depth - lifting his chin and smirking like he held the world by the balls. Jensen's eyes were in no way the mirror to his soul. They lied with the rest of him, taunting Dean - _c'mon, give me your best shot_. Who could say no to that?

Dean lifted his hand, placed the palm gently on Jensen's cheek, his thumb resting against the corner of the bitten lips, ignoring the flinch. "I'm not gonna hurt you," he whispered. Leaning in, he let his tongue trace the soft lower lip, felt Jensen inhale and allow his tongue in. Behind the upper lip, across the teeth, a flick of invitation to Jensen's own tongue, and then out, as he moved away just an inch, waiting.

Jensen crashed into him. Lips and teeth and tongue, hands gripping his hips, cock aligning with his, rubbing just right, making him moan and twitch his hips back to get more friction, more contact. Dean's tongue was at war with Jensen's. No prisoners, asserting dominance. He cupped Jensen's head and growled and Jensen's breath hitched and tongue submitted, letting Dean's in. Dean licked the top of his mouth, burned the tongue on Jensen's teeth, than calmed down and started making love to Jensen's mouth.  
His hips slowed down, dragging his dick slower against Jensen's now, in rhythm to the kiss. Jensen released a sound that might have been a cry for air or a cry for more, but Dean wasn't giving either, as he finally got to taste. There was beer and salt of peanuts and sweet of perhaps chewing gum, and behind it all something Dean was desperate to get to: Jensen.

He felt a hand at his collarbone pushing him away softly and _yeah_ , he needed to breathe too, so he separated his lips from Jensen's and relished the quiet whine he caused. One breath and Jensen's lips were back, this time it was Dean's lip Jensen's teeth were biting into and that was so very much okay by him. All through this though, they kept the mellow rhythm of their hips grinding their cocks against each other and Dean thought of come stains on his pants and walking through the bar with everyone knowing what just happened and he almost came at the thought. This time the whine was all him and he grabbed Jensen's hips and steadied them, watching the eyes try to focus on his, and the need on Jensen's face was too much for him.

"Can we go, somewhere?" He asked in between light bites to the corner of Jensen's lips.

"Your friend... won't he..."

"My brother. And no, he won't." Dean smiled and pulled back "His amazing conversational skills and your brilliant pick-up lines and the two of you should never be left alone in a bar again. In short, it was a misunderstanding. In long, I really wanna get the hell out of here and get you out of those clothes and we can do the explaining later." He punctuated that statement with a slow, hard rub of his dick along Jensen's and leaned in to nibble behind his ear.

Jensen's whole body shuddered and his breathing sped up as Dean tortured the soft skin. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

Dean turned to leave the room when Jensen's fingers on his wrist stopped him. Jensen was looking nervous, playing with the rim of Dean's sleeve. Dean lifted his eyebrow in question and Jensen sighed. Their eyes met and Jensen murmured something. Dean smiled.

"Dean. My name is Dean."

\--  
   
 _What the hell am I doing?_ Jensen was sitting in the guy's - _Dean's_ \- car, spreading the hole on the knee of his jeans nervously. If he continued he'd end up with boxers instead of jeans. So he sighed and forced himself to relax.

"Which way?"

"Straight up that street, I'll tell you when to turn."

His friends weren't exactly happy that he was leaving "just as the party was picking up" and he knew they weren't stupid and saw exactly what was going on, but honestly, it wasn't like he was concentrating on much of anything anyway.

The guy's - _Dean's dammit!_ \- brother seemed to have found himself a girl for the night and didn't mind being left without the car, so _naturally_ here he was, letting _Dean_ take him home. Jensen's home that is. _No, really. What the hell am I doing?_  
He never took anyone to his house. He was an actor for fuck's sakes, he _knew_ better. But Dean was breaking every one of his rules, and without even trying, the arrogant bastard. _What the hell?_ He couldn't seem to get a thought beyond that one, and _"Why the hell am I taking him home?_ " His mind was a jumble and he didn't like it.

Jensen didn't realize he was frowning and basically rubbing the skin off of his forehead until Dean stopped the car on the side of the road and took Jensen's hand in his, away from the abused skin.

The second Dean's skin touched his though, his thoughts cleared up, leaving only one thing behind. _Want. Want Now._

He half turned in his seat, one leg on the floor and one bent in front of him, and pulled Dean toward him by the jacket collar. Their tongues and breaths mixed as he dragged Dean's shirt up to put his hands on more perfect skin, one hand kneading the muscles on Dean's back, the other traveling up his stomach. _God, hard muscle and soft skin. More, need more now._ Dean was biting the side of his jaw, his hands sliding down Jensen's jeans grabbing his ass and pulling him up from the seat into the warm body. Jensen shivered.

Dean growled into his ear, "Be sure. Be so fucking sure. I'm not gonna let you out of the bed for a week," then whispered something that sounded a whole lot like "so fucking innocent" and Jensen wanted to laugh, but then Dean's teeth found that spot right below his ear and all he wanted was to scream.

Except he wasn't sure. Not at all. He knew nothing about this guy. Nothing other than what his body was shouting at him. But really, how much could he trust that. And for a moment he thought of all the faceless hookups he did these past years, remembered he never wanted any of them. Not like this. Not really. And he could only ever want, never take. His anger flared up at that thought.  
He saw Dean noticed something was wrong, was now looking at him, trying to figure out what was going on, and if Jensen didn't say something soon, Dean was gonna move away completely and take him back, no questions asked, and Jensen had a split second to decide.

"I'm sure."

\--

Dean was torn between pinning Jensen to the seat, or hell, dragging him outside, bending him over the hood – all that pale skin against his baby's warm black metal, Dean mentally moaned - and continuing the ride to the bed where he could spend hours teaching Jensen all the tricks the seven years of extra experience brought him.

When Jensen leaned in again, hand clutching his shirt with just a hint of desperation, teeth in Dean's jaw, eyes closed, but look of irreversible determination on his face, Dean realized a quick fuck will not do.  
He wanted to take Jensen apart, like one of his guns, see what he was made of, touch and polish every part, then put him back together again and enjoy the perfection for as long as he could.

Almost a year passed since Sam asked him to come to California with him, and Dean knew that very minute his body and mind had started... relaxing. It was a strange feeling for him. The danger wasn't over, he was still a hunter, still had to be on his toes, knife under the pillow and all. But he felt like, perhaps, he could be a part of both worlds and not get lost in either. And that's about the only reason he didn't start panicking when he realized that he maybe wanted to take some time and get to know the person currently trying to bite their way into Dean through his neck.  
After he fucked him of course. Or perhaps even during, Dean could multi-task.  
He gave a sharp quick laugh that morphed into a moan as Jensen sucked along his collarbone.

"We need to get out of here." He pulled Jensen off and back into his seat, a quick peck to the lips and the car was roaring back to life within seconds.

When Dean parked in front of the suburban house he had a brief flash of _picket fences_ before he remembered he "owned" one of them now too.

He stood just behind Jensen, watching him fumble with his keys, deciding to help by sneaking his hand under the shirt and running his nails across Jensen's tail bone. Dean felt him shiver, not for the first time tonight, and wondered just how responsive Jensen could be.

\--

The second they were through the door Jensen was pinned to the wall, tongues meeting and tasting. His breath caught in his throat as their hands explored over the clothes, nipples and chest, bellies, back, ass. Squeezing and pulling, not stopping even when Jensen's lips chased down Dean's face, to the neck, smelling smoke, leather, sweat and something unidentifiable all mixed into _Dean,_ making him ache for more. Back up to the ear, nibbling, feeling Dean's cock push against his, Dean's groans setting his blood on fire.

Jensen needed to see the look on Dean's face while he was making those sounds. His hand searched for the light. When he turned it on, he was busy making Dean curse with his tongue at the bottom of Dean's neck and his fingers on Dean's nipple. Jensen pulled back, cursing himself, but wanting to see those eyes, cutting so deep into him, but making everything better.  
Right now they were dark and wild and slightly out of focus as Dean panted his breath over Jensen's face and then stilled.

His hands, warm and not quite steady, came up to Jensen's cheeks and he leaned in. Jensen saw Dean staring at him slightly cross-eyed and then, "Freckles." He thumbed the bridge of Jensen's nose and his cheekbones smiling like a little kid. Jensen tried to bat Dean's hands away but Dean kept staring and smiling and touching his face until he gave up and let the man do what ever it was he wanted.

Dean was still smiling as he started leaning in for a kiss but then he suddenly stopped. _Now what?_

Dean took half a step back looking like he was going to hyperventilate and choked out "Off. Your shirt, off."

Jensen smirked as realization hit him and he started to slowly drag the shirt up, jutting his hips a bit. He knew what Dean would see first as the shirt rose from the hips, and while he didn't get the fascination, he certainly knew how to play the game.

Dean's eyes were glued to the skin that was appearing under the shirt and his fingers were slightly hooked in the band of Jensen's jeans. When the first splatter of freckles over the hips appeared Dean's fingers moved to cover them. By the time the shirt was up to his chest Dean's hands were holding his hips, thumbs again busy exploring the freckles like he could feel them.

But Jensen certainly felt it. And not just in his cock which was now strained against his jeans, but also in places he chose not to think about right now.

Shirt on the floor and his shoulders leaning against the wall, he watched Dean's fingers as they traveled up the hips, a tickle over the ribs (Dean's evil smile as he remembered the twitch for later use) and by the time Dean's nails were on his nipples and Dean's lips over the freckles on his collarbone Jensen was hypnotized. His fingers grabbed Dean's hair - _no purchase, too short_ \- to keep him in _just that spot_ as his other hand started pulling Dean's shirt up. He somehow managed to take it off without losing more than a few seconds of contact with Dean's body and then there was skin touching his and muscles and cocks and tongues were rubbing against each other as they moaned together at the clash of sensations.

"Bedroom." Jensen managed to force out between their lips and Dean seemed to agree, stepping back, giving Jensen space to lead the way.

When Jensen started down the hall though, he heard a growl behind him. _Oh._ He had completely forgotten about the freckles over his shoulders and shoulder blades. He understood that Dean had a bit of a thing for them, but didn't realize the strength it took for Dean not to just jump him in the hall until he felt a push at his back and found himself kneeling on the bed.

He swallowed as Dean's warmth surrounded him. Firm thighs around his own, fingers covering his nipples, pulling them and twitching, sharp sensations making him squirm trying to get his cock in a less painful position. Then soft, wet, _god_ sinful lips on his shoulders, on the back of his neck, sending pulses and shivers straight to his cock. Jensen's back was one big erogenous zone, he knew that. But usually no one paid much attention beyond the necessary rubbing-while-fucking friction. This though...

Jensen felt like he was falling apart. Every nerve in his body stood to attention. Dean appeared to be trying to taste every freckle, nibbling on the sensitive skin, nails and fingers joining the torture and _damn_ Jensen's dick was about to explode. He had to unbutton his pants or he would end up with an injury. Popping the button, he lifted his ass a bit to help the zipper go down and that's when it happened.

Sound of the zipper was clearly some kind of invitation to Dean. His teeth closed on the top of Jensen's spine, nails of one hand grated against the tail bone while the other surged inside the back of Jensen's pants, pushing behind his balls and just _pressing_. Jensen curled in on himself and came like a teenager. Horrified gasps and whispered _fuckfuckfuck_ as the come stained his boxers and trickled down his dick. He felt Dean go completely still behind him. _Fuck._ What the hell does he say now?

"Dude, did you just come?"

Jensen tried to move away but Dean bit into his shoulder again and used his whole body to calm him down. He felt the lips on his shoulder spread into a smile and stiffened waiting for the mocking.

"I'm fucking amazing!"

A laughter was startled from Jensen and he felt Dean re-adjust his position, hands on his hips now and lips softly kissing between the shoulders, letting Jensen's breathing settle.

"Sensitive back hm? M'gonna remember that."

One more kiss on each shoulder and Dean stepped back from the bed. Jensen turned around and saw him start to take his own jeans off.

Jensen sat on the edge of the bed, hooked his fingers through the belt hoops and pulled Dean in to stand between his legs, his head nigh perfectly positioned for what he wanted to do next. He undressed Dean quickly, then stopped for a moment to appreciate the view. Dean was like a sculpture. Not a grain of fat but no bulging biceps either. Almost... deceiving in its beauty. 'Cause Jensen felt that body hold him in place and knew the strength that was hidden there.

His fingers trailed up the finely haired thighs just as his eyes were pulled to the beautiful cock standing hard and red in front of him. He bit his lip, heard Dean gasp and leaned in to take a long lick from the base to the head, feeling the silk under his tongue, enjoying the other man's trembling.

One of Dean's hands came to his shoulder and squeezed. Jensen just opened his mouth and swallowed Dean as far as he'd go. The taste was bitter and salty and Jensen closed his eyes letting himself get used to it. A pulse of pre-come sent his taste buds into a frenzy and he swallowed around the cock in his mouth. _Yeah, this is good._ Dean moaned and tried not to buck but Jensen knew how to do this, he was good at this. A few more sucks to get his mouth wet enough and his hands found Dean's ass and pulled closer, he looked up at Dean opening his mouth even winder. _C'mon, do it._

Dean looked like he wasn't all that sure but then he must have remembered he was not exactly stupid, there's an open mouth waiting for his cock and so he pushed in, slow but firm, seeing how far he could go. His eyes darkened when he realized Jensen wasn't about to gag any time soon and he started thrusting deep and sure.

\--

Dean thought he was going deaf and blind with pleasure, he heard nothing but the wet suckling noises and saw nothing but Jensen's pretty mouth stretched over his cock. Jensen's throat was opening for him, tongue fluttering across the bottom as he slipped out, relaxing as he pushed back in. He moaned and held Jensen's head in his hands, slightly too long hair wrapping around his fingers. A sharp tug and he heard Jensen yelp, a slight graze of teeth on his cock. He laughed breathlessly.  
And Dean's balls were signaling him, it was time to make up his mind. He forced his hips to stop - _Wasn't there a Nobel Prize for things like that?_ \- and slid out, his eyes on Jensen's lips as he sucked one last time. Dean took a deep breath before he was able to talk.

"Wanna fuck you." _Smooth,_ _Winchester_ _._

Jensen was up in a second, shucking his pants and now sticky boxers. He climbed back to bed, elbows on the mattress, ass in the air. Dean _had_ to touch.

His fingers traced the curve of the ass being offered and he shook a bit when he saw the few random freckles there too and knew he was going to be crazy by the end of the night.  
He went to his knees behind Jensen and leaned in to kiss the loose freckles, felt the other man shiver, heard his breathing deepen.

Dean's hand slid down the ass, cupped the balls and lifted them, his lips never leaving the skin before him. Jensen sighed and moaned and then murmured something in the pillow but Dean couldn't hear him, just kept kissing and massaging the balls. Feeling Jensen's half hard cock start to fill up again.

He tapped the inside of one thigh and Jensen spread his legs more. Dean's lips went lower, he knew what Jensen thought but no, he wasn't doing that tonight. His tongue found Jensen's balls instead, and this time he knew exactly what Jensen was saying and who knew nice Texas boys could curse like that. He let loose a puff of air as he smiled, just before he started sucking on the skin of Jensen's balls, holding them gently but with a firm hand so his lips and tongue caused most destruction to Jensen's rational thought.

When Jensen stopped being able to produce words and his hands were gripping the sheets so tightly even Dean saw them crinkle from the corner of his eye, two of Dean's fingers spread out to touch Jensen's cock. And there it was, full and ready again.

Dean placed his hands back to Jensen's hips and kissed his way up his spine, asking for lube and condoms. Jensen's hand stretched out to the nightstand and pulled them out of the drawer letting them fall near his knees.

Dean smirked.

He swung his arm around the other man's chest and pulled him up a bit. He placed one of Jensen's hands on the headboard, and brought the other one to his lips. Jensen looked at him, confused, but Dean just started sucking on his middle finger getting it nice and wet.

Jensen smiled a wicked little smile. "You wanna see me open myself up for you? Get myself nice and ready so you can just slip in like it was made for you? Like _I_ was made for you?"

The words were hitting his dick like laps of tongue on the slit. And yeah, Dean really did. But he wasn't a lazy bastard, he'd help along.

He took Jensen's finger out of his mouth, and watched Jensen arch and stretch to reach his hole. Dean sat back on his knees, his own dick in his hand, fingers circling the head, ready to watch the show. Jensen circled his hole a while before slipping the tip of the finger in, backed out and slowly went all the way to second knuckle. Dean almost choked watching Jensen's whole body twitch, and man, that couldn't be comfortable, but Jensen wasn't complaining and Dean wasn’t about to stop him. But…

"We're not in a hurry."

"You might not be..."

And Dean had to smile; the kid gave as good as he took. He finally reached for the lube and got Jensen's fingers nice and slick before letting him try again. This time it went easier, he gave Jensen time to get two fingers in, and by the time Dean joined in on the fun, his own fingers slick only with pre-come, Jensen's moan was nothing but pleasure.

Jensen's fingers weren't touching his prostate and Dean played along for now, wondered vaguely why that is, but figured it's not gonna last long anyway. His other hand couldn't help but wander to Jensen's dick, and Dean suddenly realized two things. One, this is actually the first time tonight that he was _really_ touching Jensen there, _and_ Jensen never once asked. And two, Jensen has yet to say his name.  
He had ways of making that happen.

He slid his palm over some lube on Jensen's thighs and circled the head of Jensen's cock with his pinky and the edge of the palm, waiting. The fingers still in Jensen's ass crooked suddenly, massaging his prostate, and when Jensen bucked, his dick slid through Dean's fist, warm and wet and with just the right pressure.

“Do it, Jensen.”

Long minutes passed as Jensen fucked himself between Dean's hands. Dean let him pull his fingers out and brace himself on the headboard and added his own finger in, stretching, massaging, pushing and filling. Jensen was going wild under him. Sounds and movements making Dean's dick twitch, but he couldn’t touch himself. _Which was a really good thing since he’d be coming right about now if he could._

"So good baby,” Dean’s voice was wrecked, “So beautiful stretched like this. Working so hard to get yourself ready for me. You want my dick in there? Stretching you? Filling you up? Burning till the pain is as good as the pleasure? I do. I wanna see your tight little hole, fuck, so tight around my fingers, spread to take me. Beautiful Jensen, fucking beautiful.”

Jensen didn't look like he understood much of what was being said, but the words served their own purpose, making the younger man more aware of who he was with, what he was doing, just for a bit before it all lost meaning.

"Please... please, fuck... I need..."

"Hmmm?" Dean sounded vaguely absent, he knew. He also knew it would piss Jensen off if he wasn't so far gone. As it is though...

"I need more. You. ... Fuck. ... I need you to fuck me."

Dean didn't want to ask. But his own dick was screaming at him and time was seriously running out, and if Jensen didn't say his name soon _he_ was gonna be the one begging. He didn't even know why it was so important to hear it. Didn't want to know.

Instead, he removed his hand from Jensen's cock, leaving him with nothing to rub against, lifted himself a bit and started scraping his teeth over Jensen's back, then licking to soothe before marking again. Jensen screamed and bucked and Dean let him calm a bit, just dipping his tongue in one of the dimples above the ass, kissing it and sucking lightly.

"Dean... please..." breathless and scratched, but there.

"You beg so good for me baby." _Pushing it, Dean._

"Fuck…"

"You sure?"

"Dean!"

Dean smiled leaning in for a quick kiss. "If you insist."

Before the last word was out Dean was ripping the condom open and within seconds he was sliding in. Slow but without stopping, all the way in, listening to Jensen's soft whine for any pain. When none came, and he was sheathed completely in the slick warmth, he gave them a minute to adjust, and started the gentle fucking.

It was perfect. Heat and pressure around his cock, Jensen's and his moans mixing in the air. He licked the sweat from Jensen's neck, smell and taste pushing him further. He thrust faster, every other stroke stroking Jensen's prostate, making him push back on Dean even harder, both of them grunting with each slap of skin on skin.

He was moments from coming and knew Jensen wasn't far either.

“You gonna come for me? Come with just my dick up your ass? Don't even have to touch you do I?” Dean teased between kisses, but as he looked up for a moment he saw Jensen's jaw clench.

Thinking was way too hard right now but Dean was a bright boy. He heard Jensen cursing earlier and knew it wasn't the talking that bothered him. It was something he'd said. And he had a flashback to that evening, in the bar, Jensen's fingers circling the bottle, Dean imagining _himself_ being the one with the ass in the air.

He grabbed hold of Jensen’s cock and went for broke. "Jensen, do you wanna fuck me?"

He felt Jensen stiffen, thought for a moment he'd insulted him or something, then felt that ass close fist tight around him, Jensen twitch his hips into Dean's hand just once, brutally, and Dean realized Jensen was coming, soundlessly, biting his lower lip till it bled. Dean just _wouldn't_ have _that_. He lifted the hand currently not busy trying to squeeze the life out of Jensen's dick to Jensen's lips and basically pried that mouth open. The sound that left Jensen's throat as the last spasms of orgasm shook his body was raw and sinful and the final push for Dean. He had Jensen pinned under him in a second, pounding at his ass like his life depended on it. A dozen wild strokes and he was coming, whispers of _baby... tight... oh god yes... so perfect_ spilling out of his mouth into Jensen's skin.

When his heart stopped trying to beat its way out of Dean's body, he kissed the sweaty skin between Jensen's shoulder blades, licked the salt off it and smiled. "Was that a 'yes'"?

This time when Jensen stiffed Dean knew it wasn't for a good reason, but his lips reassured the younger man, traveling over the shoulders and as low down the back as he could reach in this position.

He pulled himself out of Jensen's body slowly, feeling every inch of Jensen's ass pulse against him as he retreated. He slipped the condom off and threw it... somewhere. An evil smile broke across his face at the thought of Jensen cleaning his room later and finding it.

Sleep sounded good right about now. Hot-tub sounded better. He turned to Jensen, who was obviously not going to give an answer to his previous question, so he asked another instead. "You have a hot tub in this playboy's mansion, actor?"

Jensen grinned, "Don't we all? C'mon, I'll show you."

Jensen got out of the bed slowly, counting injuries, and gave Dean a slightly bemused look.

"What can I say, I'm that good," Dean explained away the pain and pleasure in Jensen's muscles, and it made Jensen chuckle. "Freak."

Jensen walked out of the room completely naked, giving Dean a perfect view of his ass, and Dean wished he didn't use a condom so he could see traces of himself down Jensen's thighs.  
 _Perhaps one day._ Dean stopped suddenly half way through jumping out of bed to follow Jensen and almost ended up on his ass. _One day? You gonna propose, Dean?_ a voice taunted in his head. For some reason it sounded a little like his dad. And that brought a burst of pain that he didn't want with him tonight. So he stuffed the last 30 seconds in his "to be dealt with later" drawer and went after Jensen.

The hot tub wasn't in the back yard or in a specially designed pleasure room, which Dean thought was a bit disappointing, but he guessed a bathroom will do. "The whole Hollywood thing is slightly wasted on you isn't it?"

Jensen snickered, "Awww, would you like me to call over a few pretty little things to rub smelly oils into you, poor baby?"

Dean pretended to think about it but then his eyes caught sight of Jensen’s dick, still messy with come, and he licked his lips slowly and purposefully. "Nah, you'll do."

"You woo me so sweetly sugar."

"Woo?" Dean's eyebrow lifted.

"Need a dictionary?"

"Own one?"

Jensen burst into a laughter that boomed around the bathroom and Dean couldn't help but smile seeing Jensen relaxed for perhaps the first time that night.

Jensen's hand came to the back of Dean's head and he pulled him in for a kiss that was more a crash of smiles than actual lip-lock. "The tub's ready, get in."

"You joining me?"

"It is _my_ hot tub you know."

Dean pouted looking at the tub, that granted could fit two people, but riling up Jensen was too much fun. He noticed Jensen do an eye-roll and a fleeting _Sammy!_ passed his mind. He turned his head slightly and bit Jensen's shoulder.

"Ouch!" _Jensen exaggerated_ "What was that for?"

"You're delicious." Dean smiled his most innocent of smiles and ignored Jensen's face morphing into - _You're one brick short of a whole house ain't ya?_ "Fine, but if we share, you get to break your back on the edge."

Jensen looked puzzled for a second but when understanding dawned on his face Dean thought Jensen just might run out of the bathroom. He also realized that if they spent any more time standing _over_ the tub instead of in it, the moment would get really awkward.

"C'mon, in you go little pillow."

And really, Jensen's _are-you-for-real_ face was getting as familiar as Sam's talking eyes, which disturbed Dean on more than one level.

Still, Jensen stepped in and then down he went and sighed as he relaxed into the tub.

Dean was both feet in when he heard Jensen say "Little?" and he turned around to see Jensen pouting at his own cock like a ten year old who just got a knitted sweater for his birthday. Dean laughingly went to his knees between Jensen's legs, facing him, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub and puffed kisses to Jensen's chest and belly. He lightly cupped Jensen's dick in his hand and bowed his head just for a second to kiss the tip, then went back up to giggle the rest of his laughter into Jensen's mouth.

"Seems okay to me, but I have to test run it before I can say for sure."

He flopped to his back then, not even acknowledging Jensen's stiffing reaction to his words this time, trying to mold Jensen to fit his back not at all gently. After a few painful huffs Jensen finally closed an arm around Dean's chest and held him still.

"You do realize I'm not _actually_ a pillow?"

"Whatever. You're soft and practical, now be still."

Jensen's quiet laughter shook Dean in total disobedience to his awesome order and he frowned up at Jensen just to have the younger man kiss the tip of his nose as if he were a... _chick_. He frowned harder and Jensen shook him more and he decided it best to ignore the vibrating pillow until it ran out of power.

Jensen calmed down eventually, his arm still wrapped around Dean's chest, fingers of the other one drawing lazy patterns on Dean's hip.

Dean loved sex. He really did. It was fun and relaxing and could be as funny and wild as it could be slow and deep. All options were okay by him, as long as everybody was enjoying it. He got the impression it wasn't quite like that for Jensen. Not that Jensen didn't like what they did - _as if_ \- but the silence and the concentration he put into it made it seem like he was doing a task, something he had to do just so or someone would dock his pay.

Dean decided that had to be fixed. As soon as he was rested.

\--

Jensen was watching Dean sleep.

He had no idea how this had happened. He did one night stands before and he was always the guest. When they were done, he'd clean up - sometimes - and leave. There was no banter, no hugging in the bath tubs and certainly no sleeping over.  
 _No matter what Dean might have said in the car. People say stuff to get laid, it's not exactly a binding contract._  
Except, Dean clearly didn't get the memo.

When they were well and wrinkled in the hot tub, Dean had dragged him out, made jokes while they dried up, then strong hands around his waist pulled him in for a kiss that lasted forever. Just a collision of soft lips, eyes closed, arms holding him still but not demanding. Jensen had no idea what to give when no one seemed to be asking for anything. When Dean stepped back Jensen saw a flicker of curiosity cross his face, but then the absolutely happy smile blinded him and by the time he got himself together Dean was gone.

Only, he wasn't. ‘Cause when Jensen stepped into the room Dean was face down in Jensen's bed. Asleep.

So now Jensen was watching him, telling himself he needed to wake him up and send him on his way. It was all wrong. How could Dean not know he had to leave? _He knows._ Of course he does. So _why_ was he still there?

Jensen took a moment to really look at the strong body lying next to him, broad shoulders, dip of the waist arching into the most perfect ass he'd ever seen, and a splatter of scars all over the skin, tiny ones, white ones and red ones, mostly straight, once, just under the shoulder, round. Marred perfection. He wondered about them. Knew better than to ask. But the scars, they did nothing but accentuate the beauty. Made it more dangerous, mysterious.

He squashed a moan that was trying to get out from just looking. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to... not simply touch, but be free while touching. Not wonder if he were doing it right, or how much longer he will be allowed to do it before he had to give again. Just feel.

_Do you wanna fuck me?_

_Who ASKS that?_  
Apparently he does.  
He probably asked just to tease.  
If he wanted to tease he would have done that when you pulled the 12-year-old-with-a-lingerie-magazine act. 

Jensen cringed. There was that. So what? Dean was for real?

_No way. He's older than me. Stronger. No way does he want me to do that to him.  
But you want to._

Jensen rolled eyes at himself. It always came down to want. Wanting meant nothing.

"Would you let me?" The question was asked quietly, almost a whisper, but Dean turned his face towards him and Dean's clear eyes told Jensen he wasn't asleep at all.

Dean smiled wide and reached for Jensen, turning on his back. With an arm around Jensen's waist he pulled the younger man on top of him, legs entwined. "You worry too much."

Jensen leaned in, his lips pulling on Dean's lower lip softly, making Dean open his mouth for Jensen's exploring tongue. With both of them completely naked their dicks twitched at the contact but no one was getting hard again any time soon. And Jensen realized this kiss was its own purpose.

He looked at Dean, waiting for the epic _something_ to click and make Dean as open as a book to him, but nothing happened. So he kissed Dean again instead. Felt Dean kiss back. Felt the lazy nails drawing circles on his hip. Never felt the danger coming though.

Dean's _evil evil EVIL_ nails drew a fast line up Jensen's waist and to the side of Jensen's ribs. Jensen arched and slapped a palm against his mouth but it was too late. The infinitely girly giggle was out, and Dean's smile would have made the devil horny.

 _"What!?"_ Jensen's eyes bugged out at Dean and this time when the assault came he was ready, but not all the more dignified for it.

Dean was in full on attack mode and in less than a minute Jensen was squirming on his back not at all manly like giggling and yelping. "No! No! Please! No more!" He tried "I will KILL you!" to retaliate but if "Dammit!" Dean felt anything he certainly didn't let is show. And for fuck sakes "Ah! Pain!" he was an actor. He can calm down, regain control. He can "Oh my god please. Please," _breathless_ "no more I can't..." at least kick Dean in the balls. But that was foiled when he realized how tight Dean was holding him down. _Strong._

It took him a moment to realize Dean had stopped. A much longer moment to start breathing normally again.

"What the hell, man?"

Dean fell on the side still smiling. "You worry too much, little pillow." A peck to Jensen's lips. "Sleep now, I'll blow you in the morning." Dean's hand cupped Jensen's flaccid cock and squeezed slightly "And then we'll go about getting this baby in my ass." A wink from Dean and one more peck on the lips and Dean rolled over. 

Jensen was still as a rock for a while. Then the thoughts came crashing in on him like a wave about to drown him and _that's IT_. He wasn't a delicate flower. He was _not_ going to fucking panic over this like a teenager before his first date. Dean wanted him. Dean _was_ a stranger, and perhaps a bit of a freak, _tickling, really??_ but he was obviously having fun and not at Jensen's expense but just general sex-is-good fun and Jensen was going to fucking suck it up and be a man.

"My bed. You get to sleep on the wet spot."

"Demanding bitch."

Dean reached for the shirt on the floor - Jensen's shirt - placed it on the wet spot and splayed over it. He was probably asleep in the next second. Jensen's brow lifted. _Whatever._

He got up and found a clean pair of boxers to wear, turned the light off, and lay down next to Dean. Not touching him but still feeling the warmth, listening to the easy breathing. Jensen fell asleep before his brain got the chance to start nagging him.

**

He was woken up by the sound of telephone in the distance and waited ever so patiently till it stopped its screaming before he tried to fall back to sleep. Two minutes later and no progress was made. There was another person in bed with him though. _Hmm, I wonder..._

"Coffee." He demanded.

"Coffee?" The other voice sounded hopeful.

"No. Coffee." This time he made it an order.

"Mmm... coffee." The voice was falling asleep.

 _No luck then._ He went back to trying the sleeping-more thing again.

**

Dean woke up in a strange bed with another man's hand twitching at his hip. _This is new._

He wasn't much for sleepovers. One, he wasn't a thirteen year old kid, and two, sleeping in a bed with a person he didn't trust made him semi-awake entire night, his instincts on overload. So it's not like he had an incredibly restful night, but he wasn't complaining either. Jensen smelled good and didn't snore or cuddle, _or_ try to kill him. How much more can you ask for really? All in all, he was happy with the decision he made.

He got out of bed when he was sure Jensen was still asleep, _twitching hand aside,_ to take care of the essentials, _washing your teeth with a toothbrush was SO not overrated,_ and then went in search of Jensen's kitchen for food and coffee. He picked up his jeans and cell phone on the way there.

Five whole rings before the call was answered. "Dean?" Grumpy voice on the other side was not happy.

"Hey, man, still asleep?"

"Yeah. What time is it. Where are you?" Sam's voice was slightly more awake now and held a hint of worry.

"It's around nine, and I'm at Jensen's. I'll probably stay here for the day. Not that you'll miss me much. Scored last night huh, Sammy?"

"I took her home and got her number, Dean, I don't pick up random strangers for quick fucks and eat them out of their home and business." _Whoa, that hurt._ Sam sighed on the other side. "Shit, I'm sorry, man, I don't mean it like that, just, what the hell was that last night?"

"I don't know, Sam."

"C'mon, don't be pissed at me."

Dean wasn't angry. Well, slightly, but that's not why he said it. "No, man, _I really_ don't know. And I don't wanna think about it either so I'm just gonna go with it."

"Wait, what? Don't you want to come here, we can talk about it, we'll bake cookies and gossip on the ohmygodsocute actor! This repression of emotions is so not like you."

"'Repression of emotions' at nine am, Sammy? Really?"

"Waking me up at nine am on a Sunday, Dean? Really?"

"Fine, bitch. Go to sleep."

"Jerk."

 _Took her home and got her number_. Picking through Jensen's fridge, Dean smiled at his brother's total lack of speed. Even when they were staying at a place for only two days he’d never tried to get the girl on the first date. He wasn't planning on telling Sam any time soon, but he really was proud of the fact that his brother always stayed _himself_ , even when it went against everything Dean or dad said. Even if "himself" was a total... _As if,_ _Winchester_ _, you already had the moment of emo, can't cover it up with last-minute-sarcasm any more_. "Shut up".

The fridge didn't seem to contain anything that would take less than 2 minutes to prepare, and while Dean _could_ cook, _hello, raised a brother here_ , he really didn't want to.  
It was Jensen's fridge though. Which meant he should be willing to. If he was awake that was.  
 _Hm, coffee would have the answer to this problem._  
He looked for the machine he knew had to be somewhere and made the magic liquid. He wasn't sure how Jensen liked it so just made it black and hard and Jensen could add his own sinful crap if he wanted to.

Apparently coffee really did have the answer, Dean thought, as Jensen appeared at the breakfast bar wearing only boxers, his hair a complete mess around his head, eyes only half opened. "Coffee?"

Dean smiled and pushed one cup towards Jensen as he dove into his own not planning to come out until he was fully awake.

Jensen grunted something that might have been "Thanks." Or "Flashlight."

Then, "Come."

Dean didn't feel like moving much but went after Jensen anyway. Pushing the long curtains Jensen revealed a huge glass door leading to the terrace raised from the beach with just a few steps. The ocean roared around them as they sat on the lounge chairs and woke up slowly, coffee finally bringing them back to life.

Dean turned his head slightly to look at Jensen, then licked his suddenly dry lips at the sight of all that golden freckled skin stretched out just for him. All thoughts of breakfast disappeared when he remembered last night's promise.

Jensen's eyes were closed and Dean was, after all, a ninja. He was at Jensen's side in seconds, the other man not stirring, hands hugging the coffee cup on his abdomen. Dean's hand palmed Jensen's dick through the boxers but when he leaned in it was to say _good morning_ to the freckles waiting for him on the curve of the hip. A long stripe of tongue over them and a squeeze to Jensen's dick and balls had Jensen moaning and spilling some, thankfully no longer scalding, coffee over his belly. Dean licked up the belly and sipped at the coffee that had pooled in the navel, Jensen's arching and whimpering pushing him on until he was nibbling circles around it.

"Oh, fuck." Jensen's words were quiet and breathless but had Dean smiling anyway. He licked up over the abs and between them, tasting the coffee. His hand was now slowly stroking Jensen through the boxers and Jensen's hips were moving to help him.

Dean looked up at Jensen, saw his head thrown back, heavy breaths caught behind those sharp teeth bitten in the lower lip. His eyes never leaving Jensen's face, he licked up the muscled chest and kissed a path to one nipple, tongue and lips softly teasing it.

Jensen released a dissatisfied moan and looked at him confused when Dean's hand left his dick, but his head just fell back again when Dean licked his palm and sneaked the hand under the boxers instead.

This time it was Dean's teeth that closed around the nipple and Jensen's hand cupped Dean's head to hold him in place as he arched and sighed. Dean was exchanging scraping teeth with soft wet licks and only when he heard the slight tone of distress in Jensen's voice did he slide his lips to the other nipple torturing it the same way. His free hand found the cup now resting on the floor and dipped two fingers in, then spread the coffee over the nipple before sucking it into his mouth again. _He should have coffee like this every morning._

His hand on Jensen's dick wasn't speeding up any though, and soon words started spilling out from Jensen's mouth. _Please_ and _Dean_ and _fuck_ mixed together with puffs and grunts into the best soundtrack ever. Dean's dick was pulsing now, every twitch against the jeans slightly painful and he opened the pants to give it some freedom. He moaned at the feel of fresh air around the wet head and started palming his balls, taking his time.

He kissed his way back down Jensen's trembling belly and slid Jensen's boxers under the balls. He felt Jensen's hand on his neck and looked up at the man staring at him with eyes blown to darkness. Keeping the eye contact he pursed his lips and gave Jensen's cock head a small kiss before he smiled at Jensen's "Fuck, would you just do it you fucking cock tease!" _So demanding._

Dean's lips opened and he took the cock in, tasting the salt and feeling sort of giddy as it mixed with the smell of the ocean.

He heard the chair groan as Jensen gripped the sides and trembled trying not to just _push_. Dean's own dick was now sliding through his palm mostly on pre-come and faith. It took a moment for the rhythm of his lips on Jensen's cock to catch up to that of his hand, but once he had it he kept it steady for as long as he could. His tongue circled the head on every upstroke and he swallowed deep on every down stroke. Jensen and the chair were groaning but when Dean tried the same, the vibrations he sent up Jensen's dick had him arching and shoving in too deep and Dean looked at Jensen with a warning.

"Sorry, sorry."

Dean was the forgiving sort.

He sped up the fist on his dick and the sucking and in a few minutes Jensen's hand tried to pull him away "Dean, Dean, m'gonna... oh fuck..." Dean's hand was slipping over the rim of his own cock over and over again bringing himself closer and his head pulled back a bit so he could suck the head and lick the slit of Jensen's, while jerking him with the free hand. The first spurt of Jensen's come on his tongue pushed Dean over the edge and they came seconds apart moaning and gasping and fighting for air.

Jensen bent forward and pulled Dean in and they shared a kiss that tasted of come and coffee before they both crashed down to breathe. Dean remembered vaguely that he wasn't supposed to swallow strangers but it was too late now, and really, of all the things he does in his life if sex ends up being the one to kill him, well that's just too fucking bad.

\--

"I need food."

 _What?_ Jensen opened his eyes and looked down at Dean who was spread on the floor next to the chair, completely unconcerned about his unbuttoned jeans, looking at the sky.

"Okay?"

Dean turned huge green eyes in his direction doing, Jensen guessed, his best impersonation of a starving pervert. _Well, his dick was still on display for crying out loud._

Jensen's eyebrow lifted.

It was a battle of stares.

It's not that Jensen minded being domestic. Hell, dusting relaxed him and even if he wasn't into cooking as much as Steve was, _though really, no one was into cooking as much as Steve was,_ he still didn't mind it, especially when he had someone to cook for. He just wasn't sure his one night stand was the person to do it with. But then again, night was long gone, and Dean didn't appear to be leaving, and he should probably feed him sooner or later.

Jensen sighed and looked away, but not before he caught Dean's look of triumph. "Fine. But you get to help."

"Always with the conditions."

"It's the way of the world, old man."

His escape was slightly slow due to the boxers half way down his thighs, but Dean's reach was stopped by his own clothes-problem so he managed to get to the bathroom before Dean did whatever it was his eyes were warning about.

They cleaned up and made breakfast, bickering and touching, Dean standing behind him to kiss his shoulders whenever he had nothing else to do and Jensen relaxed. He started touching and teasing back and felt himself slide from Alec and become more _Jensen_ with each passing minute.

Dean ate like a pig and Jensen laughed at him as he took small bites of his own plate, years of "knowing better" embedded in him. Then Dean looked kinda sad when he ate everything from the plate so Jensen gave him some more from his and Dean's lips spread in a smile of sheer joy that Jensen just had to taste.  
They were both smiling when they broke away and Jensen had an awkward moment in which he remembered where he was and what he was doing but then he squished it and kept on eating, if a little less relaxed now. Dean didn't comment on it, and Jensen was starting to wonder if Dean didn't notice some of his more freaky reactions just didn't care.

They took a swim and played in the water like kids, _no kissing or rubbing because Jensen had no intention of becoming poster-child for gay Hollywood_ , _they were lucky enough to get away with it earlier,_ they played Play Station and Dean cheated with kisses but then Jensen took out a bag of gummy bears and put them on his side of the couch and watched Dean crash and burn game after game in exchange for the sweets. And more kisses.

They made lunch together and it turned out Dean wasn't completely useless when he chose not to be, and he could eat his own weight in meat and potatoes but must have had some kind of phobia of the salad because he eyed it curiously all through the meal.

They made out on the couch instead of watching the crappy comedy in the background and then actually watched the crappy comedy ‘cause Dean seemed to like it and Jensen seemed to like seeing Dean smile.

Through all this, except for the making out, Jensen noticed Dean kept up a steady roll of teasing and random thoughts and discreet questions about Jensen, like he was making a list of inane things about Jensen.  
He didn't ask what his parents did or when he was born or even what his favorite color was.  
He asked "Whoa! Whose car is that?" when he saw the photo of Jensen's brother standing proudly next to his classic car build-up; "Cowboys? Really?" as if Kansas even _had_ a football team; "Whiskey or tequila?" duh; "Rock or pop?" there may have been some heavy tongue involved in the kiss that followed his answer, he never loved rock more; "Where's your brother now" memorable by Dean's frown when he said they don't talk often. Nothing invasive, nothing he could publish, _nothing interesting_ , just drops of information Jensen couldn't make pattern of.

In turn he found out that Dean's brother's name was Sam, and he thought Jensen and Dean looked just the same. But Jensen couldn't really see it, and Dean didn't have any pictures to prove what he looked like when he was Jensen's age, so they let it drop. That Dean didn't talk about his work, that his car was battling with Sam for first place in his heart, and that he has a love for stupid comedies, good horrors and, secretly, crappy horrors too.

Also that he can gross Jensen out by eating like a pig and have him hard two seconds later by sucking the grease off his fingers, practically whole fist in his mouth. Jensen wondered vaguely if it might somehow scar him for life.

During the day Jensen wondered a few more times what the hell Dean was still doing there and what he wanted from Jensen, but he wasn't about to ask because he was having way too much fun to say anything that might spoil it. And if Dean turned out to be a creepy stalker-boy, then perhaps Jensen should have gotten himself one of those, years ago.

Sunset caught them and a pair of beers back on the terrace, Dean looking at him as he ranted about Alec and asking why he loved to play the snarky character.  
Jensen gave his standard interview response. Cocky but with a good heart, taking care of number one but there when needed. Complex character to play... there was depth in those words and Jensen knew how to work people. But Dean seemed to have a low bullshit tolerance.

"I dunno, man. Seems kinda two dimensional."

Jensen looked at him completely boggled. "What?"

"Well, tough guy with a heart of gold, it's just, not exactly new you know? Not that there's anything wrong with it, there's not much originality left on TV anyway, and I'm sure you do a great job of playing him."

Jensen stood still for a while feeling the pain course through him wondering why the hell he cared what Dean thought about his work. Which he didn't even see. Then he flashed his best "teenage heartthrob" smile and looked away. "Yeah, you're right. It sucks."

Dean looked at him for a long moment. "Or you could tell me why you really like him and I could try to understand."

Jensen felt his fake smile melt away as words were popping up in his mind. _Freedom. Want. Taking_. "He just... he takes. What he wants, you know?" His voice was almost drowned by the sound of the ocean but one quick look in Dean's direction confirmed Dean heard him. Was still listening. "He doesn't wait for it to be offered. He fights and he bleeds but he reaches and takes what he wants." There was more. There were essays he wanted to write on why he both loved and hated Alec. But that was the gist. The one thing that truly mattered.

"What do you want, Jensen?"

A river of words that came up to his throat tasted like bile as he swallowed it. "More beer."  
He smiled and got up. "You want another?" He shouted when he was inside.

He opened the fridge waiting for Dean's reply and took a moment to calm down. To kill all the stupid emotions buzzing through him, each making its own demand.

Silence stretched and he wondered if he was so lost in thought he didn't hear Dean. He closed the fridge and was about to turn when he felt a breath on the back of his neck and a split second later a dry press of lips, just lightly rubbing his nape. His breath hitched, _perfect_. Dean nuzzled behind his ear. Dean's voice a growl in his ear, sending shivers down Jensen's spine even before the words registered. "What do you want?"

_Everything._

He shook his head as the words pulled on his heart. Dean's lips slipped down the side of his neck, light sucks and puffs of air on wet skin. A whisper. "What do you want?"

Another tug and his heart was clenching, trying to beat through the painful constriction. He needed to push Dean away, now, and if he was too paralyzed to move, he'd just have to do it with words.

"Fuck off, man, you don't..."

Dean forced him to turn around and his fingers on Jensen's chin lifted his head up until he met blazing green eyes pushing their way into his soul.

"What. Do you. Want. Jensen."

And Jensen's heart just ripped into a million pieces. His fists twisted in Dean’s shirt and he pushed into him so hard the stronger man actually took a step back.

"Everything!!" Jensen shouted before his jaw clenched and the rest of the words spilled through locked teeth, "I want everything. I wanna touch and shout and feel and know who I am. I wanna be myself. I wanna KNOW what I want. And then I want to take it."

He dragged Dean in and slammed his lips to Dean's, teeth painfully crashing, his tongue breaking into Dean's mouth pushing and pushing until he felt Dean just relax and give. He realized he was shaking, with rage and fear and passion and that Dean's hands were soothing up and down his back. Waiting. Letting him.

He broke off with a heavy pull on Dean's lips, his face in the other man's neck, and spread butterfly kisses in apology. He wanted to say _"I'm sorry, This isn't why you're here. You don't need my crap."_  
But he didn't know why Dean _was_ here, why he insisted on breaking in and what he was going to do now that he did. And he feared the answers. So he just kissed and licked and kissed some more. Tasted the skin on the neck again and again. _Beautiful._

He was nuzzling down pushing his face between the collar and skin when Dean started pulling him backwards. He couldn't look him in the face just yet so he stayed buried in the smell of Dean as he was lead into the bedroom.

\--

Jensen seemed to have burrowed himself in Dean's neck and wasn't coming out any time soon. Dean could relate, he wasn't big on feelings and bonding and when they did happen to... happen, he'd feel ten shades of uncomfortable afterwards. Like now.

And why had he pushed anyway?

He knew Jensen was lying the moment he started talking about Alec. Dean spent way too many years hunting to be tricked by a good actor. And Jensen was good. His face, his eyes, his whole body lied along with his words. There was no part of him that wasn't completely aware of how it had to be placed or turned or which muscle had to be moving for this perfect lie to be executed.  
Dean was just better.

Which still didn't mean he had the right to poke around Jensen's mind like they were brothers. Or life partners. Or something equally sappy.  
It's just... he got angry. When he realized Jensen was lying to him he got so bloody angry that Jensen would dare lie. To him. _And who are you?_ So he did what he does best. He pushed. And damn did Jensen fall.

Except, Dean had no idea what to do now. How to pick him up. He knew so little about the other man, this was supposed to be temporary at worst. Slow at best. Have sex and show interest and perhaps date with some more sex involved. Not... reach into Jensen and pull his deepest secrets out of him then deal with them.

_Fuck I'm an idiot._

He sat on the bed, awkwardly, maneuvering to keep Jensen's face hidden under his chin and then laid them back. Jensen stopped kissing him and was now just breathing into his neck, his palms resting on Dean's chest.

Jensen's body was rigid on top of him and Dean bent his neck a bit and kissed the top of Jensen's head. He might as well do something. Make the situation more comfortable before figuring out what to do next.

"You gonna stay in there forever?" He tried to put some smile in his voice but mostly it was gravel and sandpaper.

"Yeah."

Dean's hand found its way into Jensen's hair and combed through too long strands.

_Way to go, Winchester._

He should apologize. But that would leave Jensen nowhere.  
No, Dean needed a plan. What was it Jensen had said? He wanted to know what he wanted? Dean's face scrounged up. How do you not know what you want? Dean wanted Sam to be safe and the Impala to be strong, sometimes he wanted his dad back but he tried no to think about that too hard, he wanted to help people and kill monsters and until a year ago he wanted to find the thing that killed his mother.  
But then he remembered pushing Jensen not five minutes ago and he understood that sometimes you wanted things you didn't know the name to. Maybe that's how it was with Jensen. Maybe Jensen needed to _do_ what he wanted and not just put name tags to it.

Dean knew one thing Jensen wanted, and he _had_ promised. _It's a hard job but someone has to do it. Man up Dean!_

For a moment he wondered if thinking sex will solve anything might be the wrong idea, but really, it's sex, how can it not be good? But in the end, he needed to do something, and Jensen needed him to do something, and if Dean was ever good at anything, it was giving.

But for anything to happen, Jensen needed to find his way up from Dean's neck. His hand slipped inside Jensen's shirt and nails started slow strokes up and down Jensen's back. He felt Jensen shiver and then still, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to respond to it. Then Jensen licked his lips and the tongue passed Dean's neck for a moment causing Dean's nails to cut sharper into the skin and Jensen let loose a quiet whine and _finally_ nuzzled his face up to Dean's cheek. "Dean." Jensen's whisper was swallowed by Dean's lips before their tongues met, pushed and slid. 

Dean's hand twisted in Jensen's shirt and he hugged closer before he remembered who this was supposed to be about. He eased up on the hold and on the kiss, responding but not demanding. Jensen noticed the difference, the kiss slightly softer now that he was controlling it. His hand came up behind Dean's head and he shifted the angle a bit, slipping in deeper for a taste before he pulled away completely and looked at Dean, green eyes huge and questioning.

\--

"What..."

"Whatever you want."

Which Jensen knew never meant exactly that, but maybe for once he'd get more time before things turned, could touch more before he had to let go. He could appreciate the offer, even if he didn't believe it completely.

His lips were back on Dean's before he could think of what to do. His hands were running up Dean's side, pushing the shirt on their way, until he had it all the way up and Dean's arms tangled in it above his head. He felt a pang of want at the sight but took the shirt completely off anyway.

Jensen sat on Dean's thighs and let his hand wander over the other man's torso. Strong muscles spasmed under his fingers. He felt Dean's breathing hitch as he pinched the nipples and thumbed a few stray scars.

Dean's eyes were watching his face all the time and it made him uncomfortable. He hid back into Dean's skin dropping kisses on his abdomen and dipping his tongue in the navel until Dean arched under him, cock hard under the tight jeans.

Jensen let himself nuzzle against it for a minute, pressing Dean's hips down when he tried to arch up. He waited for Dean to open his pants but when it didn't happen Jensen unbuttoned them himself. He sucked on the head as it peaked between the opening and then kissed down as he pushed the jeans off.

He stepped from the bed to take off his own clothes and noticed Dean was still watching. He knew Dean would see he's barely half hard but there was nothing he could do about that now. Still, he tried to get back on the bed as fast as possible, there was a small hope Dean could be distracted. And he was right, Dean's frown disappeared as soon as Jensen's lips found his balls and started sucking and licking, nuzzling his face in the hardness above them.

Jensen couldn't understand. Why was Dean doing this? What was he getting out of it? And yeah, if Jensen was to do whatever he wanted... what would he do?

"You're thinking too much again."

He didn't realize he'd stopped moving, his forehead on Dean's hip and thumb rubbing the other one only points of contact left.

"Sorry, I..."

"Look." Dean grabbed hold of his biceps and pulled him up and on his side. Dean's hand caressed him in a long line from his ribs across the waist and hip, down the buttock and a slight scrape of nails where it met thigh, causing Jensen to shiver slightly. "Do you think I say to myself 'now squeeze the ass and scratch the skin' whenever I do this?"

 _What??_ "What?"

Dean did an eye roll. "You heard me. Don't make me repeat it. Do you think that's what I do when I touch you? Do a recount?"

Jensen's mouth opened as if he was gonna say something but nothing came out.

"I don't." Dean lowered his head and kissed him just above the nipple, scratching his chest with his almost 48 hours worth of shadow. Jensen shivered. "I know I want to touch you and taste you, so I do. I know I get hard when you squirm and moan, so I tease and let your body tell mine where to go. I watch your reactions and if you like something I do it some more and remember to come back later. Your brain has already met your body; it knows what you want even if you can't put words to it. Just let them work together and don't analyze it." 

"That was deep, man." Jensen teased, but Dean's words were hitting all the right spots.

"I'll send you the check."

"I feel I should write this in my diary."

If Dean thought suffocating him with a pillow while rubbing their dicks together was gonna make any _negative_ impact he was seriously wrong. Jensen's hands grabbed for Dean's ass and pulled them together harder and Dean moaned and threw the pillow away from Jensen's face.

"I though I was your designated pillow." Jensen's hips canted up at the same time his fingers slipped between Dean's cheeks.

"Fuck yes!"

"Yes I am?" His finger circled Dean's hole, the other hand massaging his balls gently.

Dean gasped and didn't look like he could keep up with the conversation.

Still. Jensen sucked under Dean's ear, "Hmmm?" his finger pushing slightly, just to make itself known, not to hurt.

"Evil son of a..." Jensen's thumb circled the rim of Dean's cock "FUCK Yes, okay, YES, just..." 

Jensen removed his fingers and slapped Dean's ass playfully. "Get off." He wondered if Dean might actually kill him. "Lube, dude."

"Fucking hate you."

"You say that now..."

Jensen pushed Dean on his back, found the lube on the floor and knelt between the spread legs. He was hard again. He didn't even notice when it happened.

He knew the smile on his face was pure idiotic joy but Dean looked like it was exactly what he was waiting for so it's not like he was complaining.

Jensen dribbled just a bit of lube on his palm and circled Dean's cock with the other one. Thumbing the head and slit he watched Dean's face as the other man arched into his fist, moaned and bit his lip. "Beautiful."

Before Dean could frown, Jensen's lips found his navel and started sucking and licking like it was made of pure candy. Dean whined and trembled, hand in Jensen's hair clenching and releasing. Jensen started stroking him slowly, feeling Dean's entire cock slip through his fingers.

Pre-come was leaving traces on the taunt belly and Jensen licked it off before nibbling a path up to the navel again and again until Dean was arching under him, words too broken by moans to make sense. Jensen's lightly lubed hand slipped from the cock and behind the balls to press into the too tight hole at the same time his mouth finally closed around the head. Dean's growled out "Jensen!" and hips pushing upwards were the sign he was waiting for. Jensen removed his hands and lips completely so that Dean ended up pumping into air, all thoughts of pleasure gone.

"What the f..." Dean's words were cut off by Jensen's lips. Swift kisses and licks to calm him down. Jensen's body was arched high so Dean couldn't rub on him and Jensen felt Dean's frustration in the fist that grabbed his hair.

"Let me." Jensen's whisper was almost lost in Dean's mouth.

The hand in his hair trembled.

"Just let me, I'll get you there."

"Fuck."

"In a bit."

Jensen smiled at Dean and watched him relax again. He kissed each of Dean's wrists before he put them above Dean's head. "Try not to move."

Jensen's lips caressed Dean's face. Across the eyelids, cheeks and nose, he kissed around the lips and laughed when he felt Dean pout. He couldn't resist. The kiss was sweet and deep and Jensen let himself taste until his lungs begged for air and then once more.  His hand held Dean's head tilted while he softly bit his way down the chin and under, to the hollow at the bottom of Dean's neck. Sweat was pooling there but all the nerves in Jensen's body obviously thought it was the best taste ever and his thoughts scattered completely.

His hands and lips explored the body under him restlessly, every curve and angle and shallow nook.  Whenever he looked, Dean's hands were twisted in the sheets above his head as he fought not to move, not to demand.  
Jensen knew it wasn't fair, that Dean was the one paying for years of not having this, but he figured there are worse things in the world he could be doing.

He discovered that the behind of Dean's knee was almost as sensitive as his navel, and that burning nails down the inside of his thighs made him groan and arch. That his neck was only sensitive in one place and his nipples needed to be bitten to react. His body was a myriad of contrasts. Places where kisses actually soothed Dean's breathing were mere inches away from places that made him scream, strong and soft co-existed peacefully and when licked, brutal marks on Dean’s body brought only pleasure.

Mostly though, Jensen learned Dean had infinite patience when he wanted to.

All through the exploration Jensen never once touched Dean’s cock. It was only when Dean's gasps started to sound painful, and his face frowned in more than mock anger that Jensen finally took pity and took Dean into his mouth, letting him thrust and fuck into it until he was screaming, shooting down Jensen’s throat and he swallowed all and licked him clean after.

Dean looked like he wanted to rest and Jensen showed mercy. His own cock was painfully hard by now and he jerked it quickly, then let Dean take over and came apart, shaking under watchful eyes, all over the taunt belly.  
Dean's fingers lazily picked some sticky white up and he sucked them clean. Jensen whimpered and fell on the side next to him.

"That was..." Jensen guessed the hand movement Dean made with the words was something positive, and smiled.

"Thank you."

"But you didn't..."

"There's time. I got what I wanted for now."

Dean's eyes opened now and looked directly at him and he felt a slight blush cover his face. "Good."

Dean leaned over for a quick kiss and they fell asleep, touching this time, another presence in bed not bothering them as much.

**

Sam watched his brother clean the guns. Artistic disarray on the table and Dean knew exactly which part went where without looking. Sam felt that way about Dean sometimes. Like he could take him apart and put him together just as he was without even trying.

Sam knew more about Dean than even Dean himself did. 'Cause Sam wasn't afraid to accept Dean's fears or hopes and dreams. He knew how much Dean had to give. But also realized his brother had no idea what an amazing person it made him. All Dean knew was that, so often, he had been too much. And yes, Sam felt it like nobody ever will, how hard it is to be on the receiving end of all that _give_. How selfish and shallow it can make a person feel, never able to give as much back, always wanting that one piece for yourself, and watching Dean give everything. _His life._

Sometimes he had to escape it, remind himself that people are both selfish and loving and he's not a lonely freak feeding on someone's love. Sometimes Sam had to remind himself that Dean just had different ways of taking. Different needs to fulfill. But they were still there, Dean's own desires - family, closeness, acceptance. Taking that step back always helped Sam feel better, knowing he did have something to give to Dean, that it was in fact a two way street.

Looking at him now, precision and swift moves over the metal, Sam knew he had to be the one to ask the question, get over Dean's refusal to talk and force him to open up. To himself more than to Sam. Cause if it was up to Dean, whatever it was that was bothering him would be erased by the solvent and covered by gun oil and never be found again.  
Clearly, what they needed were beers.

Dean's brow quirked as soon as Sam put the bottle on the table but he didn't comment.

"So." Sam started.

"No."

"No what?" From worried to irritated in less than two seconds. _Only you can make that happen, Dean_.

"No, I don't wanna talk about it." Dean's eyes never left the gun in his hand.

"So there is an "it"?"

"I spent a weekend fucking my doppelganger Sam, yes there's an “it”."

"And that's all it was. Ego fuck. Hm?"

Dean looked like he was going to say something but nothing came out. Then, almost deflated "Yeah, that's all."

"Wham, bam, thank you actor boy."

"Yes, Sam," Dean slapped the gun on the table, "that's exactly it!"

"That's exactly what?" Sam _loved_ mind games.

"What?" Dean, not so much.

"What, exactly, is "it". You said there was an "it". If all you did was fuck and leave what's the problem?"

"There is no problem."

"But there's an "it"."

"Stop saying "it" for suck sakes Sammy!" Dean was yelling but had the slightly pleading look in his eyes. The look that said _"please let it be"._ Unfortunately, to Sam it mostly said _"One more push and I'll spill."_

"You said it first!"

"I didn't... fuck, I don't even know what we're talking about any more."

"Jensen."

Dean's jaw clenched. Then relaxed. "We fucked. Who wouldn't wanna fuck this you know?" Dean's smirk was in place but Sam was so over it. "And that's i... That."

Sam leaned back in his chair and took a swing of his beer, eyes never leaving his brother as he worked.

"You're such a liar." Dean looked up at him suddenly and Sam knew it was the end of this conversation, he had maybe three more seconds to say what he wanted while Dean picked up the keys and before he shut the door, "call him. He's probably as big of pussy as you are and doesn't know what to do!" Sam flinched as the door slammed shut.

Mission accomplished. And now to call his new girl, cause he's nice like that. And not an emotionally stunted over-compensator.

\--

Dean sat in his car, listening to the familiar rumbling of the engine. _Dammit Sam, why do you always have to push it._

__

He looked at the house across the street.

__

_Jensen._

He left Jensen's house Sunday early in the morning, exchanging the automatic "I'll call you" and "Yeah, seeya". Monday he decided to take a step back and play it cool, found a job and didn't call Jensen at all. It was late Tuesday afternoon now and Dean had been driving around for hours after Sam talked him out of the flat. Until he stopped in front of Jensen's house. Dammit.

Dean didn't want to think. Not about Jensen, not about sex, and certainly not about all the _feelings_ that were suddenly there, threatening to eat him alive. It all seemed so very simple during the weekend. Getting to know Jensen, becoming lovers, then friends, wanting more. None of it seemed like some sort of sin against nature. Now though... now Dean was wondering what possible common ground there was between his life and Jensen's.

He didn't want to think. He wanted to act. There were 2 things to do. Go away and never come back. Do the self sacrifice crap and wonder forever if there was something more. Or do the emotional crap and ask Jensen out, buy him flowers or whatever it was you did when dating a guy and find out if there was more.

Dean's thoughts were suddenly interrupted and his hand went for the gun as the car door opened, but he pulled away quickly when he saw it was Jensen taking a seat next to him.

"You should take lessons from my fans, they stalk me much more discreetly."

"I don't need to stalk you, I already know what underwear you like."

Jensen's smile was genuine but slightly unsure. They were both stuck to their individual side of the car like there was a gapping hole of doom between them. Hell, maybe there was.

Jensen looked through the windshield. "Why are you here, Dean?"

 _Stupid. So stupid. Never should have come._ "Just passin' through, pretty boy, don't worry, it won't happen again." He made a move to switch the gear and pointed an eyebrow at Jensen waiting for him to go out. But Jensen still wasn't looking at him. "You might want to get out right about now."

Jensen did look at him then. His eyes seemed to be smiling at Dean and he felt a pang of pain. _Stupid. Should know by now. Always wanting too much too soon._

He didn't understand what Jensen was doing until his lips crashed into Dean's. It was a kiss that might have been shared by a married couple. Knowing and affectionate more than passionate. Dean didn't even pretend to know where to take it. Jensen looked at him obviously amused, but the palm that covered Dean's cheek was nothing but gentle and possessive.

"Stupid" _Hey! That's my line._ Dean mentally pouted. "C'mon. Let's go somewhere so you can get me drunk and I might put out." Jensen leaned back into his seat and Dean looked at his clothes. White button-down and jeans. Did Jensen expect him to come? Suddenly he wondered how many other men and women fell for Jensen and really stalked him, and how much pleasure Jensen took in it.

"Does this happen often to you?" _Must you open your mouth on every thought Dean?_

__

"What?"

"People. Meeting you. _Stalking_ you. Do you like it?" _What the hell Dean?!_

Jensen's gaze turned furious and... much worse, hurt. "Fuck this. Fuck you." He stepped out of the car after all, and disappeared back into the house.

_You fucking chickenshit asshole. Don't blame him for your fears. Don't fake jealousy when all you want is to know if he gives a damn about you. He doesn't deserve your crap._  
Exactly why I should leave.  
Exactly why you should apologize and beg forgiveness and hope he lets you look at him ever again.  
I will always hurt him. Always want more.  
So don't hurt him. And who says he can't give you more than you want? 

__

Dean really hated that the nagging, somber voice of reason in his head sounded so much like Sam. He sighed and turned the car off.

He knocked at the door but there was, as expected, no answer.

"Jensen! I should probably warn you that I can pick this shit of a lock in under 2 seconds. Just open the door."

When no answer was forthcoming he did pick the lock. But Jensen wasn't inside, not in the room or the kitchen or the bathroom. Dean looked out through the big glass door. Jensen was sitting on the beach, his feet in the water, looking towards the horizon.

He didn't seem surprised when he felt Dean slump on his knees behind him. "I'm sorry, man. That... it's my own crap. It had nothing to do with you."

Jensen did a quick bitter laugh. "It's okay. I'm an actor, right? I'm supposed to be an attention whore."

Dean wasn't even thinking when he put his arms around the other man's chest and pulled him in. "No, man. No. I swear. It had nothing to do with you. I was... It's my problem, alright?"

"So what," Jensen turned his head just slightly so his cheek was on Dean's shoulder, "every time you have a problem you lash out at whoever's close?"

"Not every time. Just when the person closest is part of the problem."

Jensen did a curt nod and looked back to the ocean.

Dean hoped the kisses he was raining on Jensen's nape would be enough of an apology cause he didn't have it in him to say he was sorry again.

Jensen nodded again. He understood. "So... what's the problem?"

Dean sighed. "I don't... I've never... well, once but... shit."

He felt Jensen shaking and started to panic, _whoa, I don't think I can handle crying,_ but Jensen threw his head back and Dean realized he was laughing. Laughing at him, but Dean didn't mind. Whatever put that look into Jensen's eyes was good in Dean's book.

Jensen half turned in his arms and almost kissed him again but he suddenly remembered and looked around like there would be an army of paparazzi standing around cheering them on. "Shit, we gotta get back inside."

\--

Jensen ran his fingers through Dean's short hair and watched the spikes stand at attention.  
Looking at Dean's cheekbones and eyes now, he could see the similarity, but the hardness in Dean's face was not easy to see through. Jensen knew his face was still boyish. Flush red lips and pale skin, thin cheeks and fluffy hair.

Dean's lips were full, but not pink at all, his eyes were the same shade as Jensen's but shielded with a false nonchalance that Jensen knew came from years of pretending to be something you're not, and his face was a face of man, strong and determined.

He didn't know _why_ he wanted to break through the masks and hardness to the real Dean, but he did. And Jensen had spent years faking his feelings and thoughts for the cameras, he promised that the one person he'd never lie to, was himself.

So now there was a new thing he wanted. And he'd have to work for it, but it might be worth it. They were standing behind closed glass door and Jensen spent a full minute just staring at Dean. He blushed and smiled at clearly uncomfortable Dean. _Let him stew._

He leaned in and slipped his tongue between Dean's lips, _God, the taste._ Before Dean could kiss back he stepped away.

"Since you didn't get me drunk I don't know how you'll make me give it up, but, there's Me, Myself and Irene on TV. You can watch it and I can grope you. You okay with that?" Despite previous pain he couldn’t help add "No smart comments?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "Shut up and spread'em"

Jensen laughed and lay back on the couch, waiting for Dean to settle between his legs. _Damn it, I am his pillow_. He pouted for a bit but soon gave it up in favor of feeling up Dean's abs and chest. "Do you work out?"

"I spar." Dean flinched after answering and looked up at him sheepishly, "I need it for my job, it's not exactly gym and jogging."

Okay, Dean didn't like to talk about his job, but couldn't he at least get a title, or a short description? "I know I said it's okay but, I need to know _something_ about your work if you’re gonna hang around."

Dean sighed and sat up. Jensen was slightly freaking out now. "It's kinda like military work. I hunt... evil... creatures." Every word preceded by a pause, like he was thinking of the best way to say it.

Jensen remembered movies about jobs like that. "What, like bounty hunter?"

Dean's eyes lit up, "I only go after evil. I never... not innocent people."

Jensen thought about it for a while. The fact that it was _evil_ seemed to make a big deal to Dean. He thought about all, particularly religious aspects of "evil" and yeah, Dean didn't seem like a maniac but who outside a Dickens novel ever did? "What is, um... evil?"

Dean seemed to understand and smiled a bit. "They kill people, children. They are monsters. Trust me. I'm not a freak okay? Not like that anyway." Dean's full on smile disappeared again at Jensen’s next question.

"And you lock them up?"

Dean blinked. "Yeah."

"So you're not really a criminal?"

Dean was taking a while to answer that one. "Sometimes... It's not exactly a well paid job, you know? And I used to do what ever had to be done. But... not any more. Not since Sam... he's at university now. I don't want to get him in trouble. If this is a problem just tell me and you won't see me again." Dean looked... deflated. Like he expected to be thrown out any minute.

And Jensen still wasn't sure it's not gonna happen. He had a bunch of questions now. Even more doubts. But then Dean stood up to leave an Jensen wasn't thinking any more. He reached for Dean and watched their fingers entwine. Same hands. Dean's with blisters.

He remembered Dean lying on the bed, not moving, as Jensen got his fill of anything he wanted. He thought of Dean's reason for quitting; _Sam's at uni. I don't want to get him in trouble._ Dean's fingers started tugging on his.

"No, it's okay." He pulled a still unsure Dean back into his arms, back to chest, and secured the hug with one leg over Deans'.

"Watch the movie, Renee is hot."

"Jensen...."

"It's fine, really. It's not thrilling," he laughed softly, "but it's okay."

Dean relaxed on top of him and Jensen started breathing normally again. This time when his hands landed on Dean's chest Dean's fingers found his and held. It was mushy and girly but Jensen was passed caring.

\--

Dean was in panic-mode. Could this moment get more homey? He could almost smell the cookies and cinnamon. This was becoming something he could lose. Jensen... was becoming someone he could fear losing. Behind him Jensen laughed at something on TV and held him tighter. _Fucking HELD him._

He wondered if the strange familiarity came from Jensen having his face, or if it would be the same if Jensen was completely different. His fingers were toying with Jensen's, caressing and teasing. It all seemed like they've done it a million times before, like Jensen's fingers were meant to be in his. He shouldn't have been here. He thought of having this. Then of ten different ways he could lose it all. Then he arranged them by the amount of pain they would cause. After that he forgot to think though because Jensen's hand slipped down to cover Dean's cock in his jeans and his lips found _that_ place on Dean's neck and started a rhapsody of bite-lick-kiss-blow, his hand squeezing in rhythm until Dean was slightly insane, moaning and arching, trying to curse but no sounds were made.

Jensen's lips and free hand attacked almost brutally, as much as they could from that position, all the places he learned about the last time. Biting and twisting instead of kissing and petting. Dean was almost fighting now, moving on top of Jensen like a puppet broken of its strings until Jensen bit into his shoulder _marking him_ and growled "Don't move."

Dean might have mewled but no way was he admitting it. When he settled completely, Jensen continued his assault and Dean was trying very hard not to move, but hard nails biting into his nipples every time he _did_ weren't exactly incentive to stay calm.

He was gonna come any minute if Jensen didn't stop and his cock was still in his god damn pants. "No. Not yet. I want you to do something for me first."

Dean almost cried. "What?"

"Play with your nipples while I jerk you off." Dean shivered. "Try not to come until I tell you to. I wanna watch you." Jensen's hand unbuttoned the pants and pulled his dick out. "Commando." There was praise in the voice.

__

Jensen held his palm up for Dean to lick and started the torturous slow stroking. On every twist on the head Jensen's thumb would slide on the precome and dip into Dean's navel. Dean felt Jensen's breathing speed up next to his ear as they both watched the hypnotizing movement.

"Dean, touch yourself."

_Right. That._

Dean's fingers found his nipples, he felt ridiculous for a full minute until Jensen’s thumb rubbed his slit and he scratched one nipple painfully and twisted the other one, crying out from two totally different sensations.

He heard Jensen's breath hitch just before he felt Jensen hard against his back. "Fuck that's so hot Dean. You have no idea." Dean laughed at that cause... It was Jensen's hand, so familiar, on his dick and yeah, he knew exactly how hot it all was. Jensen's other hand came to play with his balls and behind them, and Dean's nipples were on fire now but fuck, it was so good.

"I can't ... I can't wait"

"Just a bit more baby, just a little while I promise."

Dean's movements were rubbing him against Jensen's erection and he was wondering is the other man could come like this.

Jensen's hand kept the same speed and pressure relentlessly, pushing him higher, out of his head and beyond thinking.

"Please."

Jensen's lips were cooling his neck now, soft kisses, but nothing existed for Dean except need and ache.

"Dean."

_Fuck._

"Dean."

"Wh..."

"You can come now."

One final twist of hand around the rim and Dean was coming, drops of come landing on his stomach, Jensen's hand squeezing him through tremors, the other one scooping drops from the stomach and rubbing them into his nipples. Words were being whispered into his ear but he couldn't understand them.

He was moments from sleep when he felt Jensen on his back again. He scooted a bit lower and turned on his side. Still exhausted he just pulled Jensen's dick out of his pants and nuzzled his face into it as he jerked Jensen until he came silently, his come falling on Dean's hair and cheek. Jensen giggled and pulled him up again.

"Sleep now?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, sleep now, shower later."

"Mhmmm."

They fell asleep with Dean's face in Jensen's neck.

Next three days started a short lived routine. Dean started his job at the garage. He worked 9 - 5, and though he frowned at the concept, the owner loved him and customers were satisfied and/or charmed, so there was still a sting of pride in his heart.

Jensen spent his days sleeping, meeting friends and cleaning. He tried to convince Dean that you actually could miss dusting, but Dean had yet to be drunk enough to believe that.

They'd meet in the evening, have dinner together, play PS, have _incredible_ sex before falling asleep together, spent and sated.

For Dean though, the most disturbing part of the day was the morning. When, dressed and ready to go, he'd lean down to kiss Jensen goodbye and Jensen, still mostly asleep, would just part his lips and let him in, and everything _fit_ so perfectly in that moment that Dean would escape almost grateful for his 9 - 5 suburbia job.

Tonight they were lying together, still panting, when Jensen turned to him "My friends have a gig downtown tomorrow night. You wanna come? Maybe bring Sam?"

Dean was sure he would have started to over think it if there wasn't some seriously good sex just moments before. _And look at that, Jensen was getting to know him._ "Sam might want to bring his girl."

"No problem."

Dean had to ask though. "You sure about this?"

"Yeah, man. They asked about you."

\--

Sam was looking around the bar, listening to the chatter. Shelly was sitting next to him, her tiny hand in his and his brother on the other side. The moment was so _normal_ that for one crystal clear moment Sam could see it all disappear in a flame of unforgiving fire. As if sensing his restlessness, Dean turned around and flashed him an incredibly happy smile. Then Jensen's face appeared from behind his brother and shouted something about how great the band is and everything was all right again.

It was ten minutes before the show had to start when two guys approached them. They both had long hair but one guy was blond, the other one darker. They walked in sync even though everything about them seemed to be completely opposite. From hair color to smile/frown they were sporting. Blond guy was smiling.

"Jensen! And... Jensen?"

"Huh?" The other guy looked at him, frown still in place.

"Jensen's date looks freakishly like him."

The darker one measured Dean. "No he doesn't."

"Dude, are you blind?"

"No, but you might be hallucinating."

Jensen was looking at them fondly and Dean had his polite "fuck you" face on. _Well, no way this can go wrong._

"It seems to be the standing debate," Jensen started. "Guys, this is Dean, and that's his brother Sam and his girl Shelly. Meet Christian Kane and Steve Carlson."

Somewhat muted "Hey's" were exchanged and while Steve seemed to be perfectly okay with the situation, Kane still didn't look happy. They sat down and a round of beers was brought over straight away.

Then Kane's arm came over Jensen's shoulders and he leaned to whisper something in his ear and Sam watched Dean's mask fold in place.

Full ten minutes Kane didn't move from that position and Jensen would only break the stillness to laugh, head thrown back, his own hand on Kane's chest.

Steve was trying to make small talk with Dean but most of what he got in return were monosyllables, curt nods and fake smiles. Steve noticed Kane's behavior too, and seemed slightly surprised by it, but didn't comment. In fact, nobody commented. And by the time Kane and Steve got up to go start the set, Dean's face was a cold mask, there was a gap between Jensen and him that didn't look like it would be crossed any time soon, and Kane had a victorious smirk in his face. Sam saw Dean salute his victory and for a quick moment Kane looked bemused. Sam wondered what he was expecting, what he was going for.

"So Jen, you gonna sing with us tonight?" Jensen looked unsure but Kane continued, "I'm sure your boyfriend wants to hear you sing." When Jensen turned towards Dean, Dean's eyes were fixed on his bottle and he didn't look like he was a part of that conversation at all. Jensen flinched and Sam was seconds form punching Kane in the face. Then Kane smirked and said "Or not." and Sam watched Jensen and Dean, both of them stuck behind their own walls built of years of hurt and he was up and in Kane's face before he could think of what he was doing.

"What the fuck is your problem?" Everyone at his table, and a few others, looked at him. "You caused more trouble in the few minutes you're been here than most people manage in a lifetime. And whatever it is you were planning to do to my brother, you ended up hurting your own friend the most." Kane's eyes switched to Jensen and Sam saw realization hit him, but he wasn't quite done just yet. "What, you want Jensen all to yourself? Is that it?"

Kane did react to that finally, "What?! Hell no. You think I don't know assholes like your brother? Looking for a photo op with a famous guy and a mention in the papers and hell maybe someone will notice he's pretty too? Jensen doesn't need shit like that, so stay the fuck away from him."

His last words were directed at Dean, but it was Jensen who spoke next. "Fuck you Christian. I can take care of myself. Have done for years now. Fuck. I thought you'd be happy. Dean, I'm sorry, man, we can go, alright? I'll just go pay for this shit."

Dean's hand on his waist stopped him. He was eying Kane curiously now. "Nah, that's okay, baby, we can stay. I'd love to hear you sing." He pulled Jensen down and kissed him but his eyes met Kane's and they battled over Jensen's shoulder.

Until Jensen's palm found Dean's cheek and Dean got totally distracted, closed his eyes, and was nothing but Jensen's.

Sam felt vaguely uncomfortable and much more distinctly jealous of the connection between the two. He saw the same feeling in Shelly's eyes as she looked at them. Kane though... clearly didn't know how to respond to this. So when Steve pulled him away, he followed, confusion replacing the permanent frown.

"You mean it?" Jensen asked Dean.

There was a pause but then Dean remembered, "Yeah. Wanna hear you."

Jensen nodded, "I'm gonna talk to him, he pulled a bullshit move..."

"Nah, man. I kinda get where he's coming from."

Sam smiled. Yeah, Dean _would_ understand the possessive, "nobody hurt what's mine" streak, even if it was aimed against him.

\--

Dean didn't like country. Even when it was disguising as rock. _It's not country, it's heavy metal with a banjo_. Right.

What he did like, so very, very much, was Jensen's voice, mostly in the background of Kane's own, but still there. And the way Jensen looked when he sang. How Jensen's eyes stayed on him all through the set.

He didn't particularly _like_ the way his jeans were choking his cock at the moment, but he was still voting on that when the last song started, and then it became a mute point anyway.

Kane and Steve didn't sing on this one, just Jensen. His strong voice drowning the guitars and his eyes on the floor for the first time that evening. Dean felt his cock pulse with every verse and could only pray nobody noticed.

His eyes lowered to look at Jensen's fingers stringing the guitar and he had a flashback to what those fingers could do to his body. He was licking his lips, shuffling to ease the pressure on his cock when he lifted his eyes and met Jensen's, burning. His cock jumped and leaked precome and Dean looked away to calm himself, but the voice was still there, choking him, touching every inch of his body, calling for him.

When the song had ended Dean stayed, not moving, staring at his own hands and feeling the sweat tickle down his neck. He barely looked at Jensen when the other man sat next to him, still trying to just breathe and not pounce.

Jensen didn't say anything for a while and Dean was grateful. Then Jensen cleared his throat. "It's okay."

"What?"

"If you didn't like it. It's okay. I'm not professional or anything."

Dean knew he looked comical but couldn't train his face into anything but shock. He pushed Jensen out of his chair towards the toilets with one look in Sam's direction to make sure he was alright. _More than alright if the was Shelly was looking at him now was any indication._

Men's room wasn't exactly empty but Dean pushed Jensen into a stall without much thinking and grabbed Jensen's hand to place it against his erection. He rubbed against the hand like an animal in heat and whispered gruffly in Jensen's ear, "This. This is what your voice does to me. I couldn't look at you, couldn't think of you, or I would have jumped you on that stage and fucked you raw and not give a shit about anyone around us. Fuck. Your voice Jensen, your fucking voice."

Jensen was clearly bemused but knew exactly what to do. He opened Dean's pants to free the hard, leaking cock and pumped it quickly in his fist. "Yeah? You like my voice baby? Wanna hear me talk about what I want to do to you?"

Dean's "Yes." was slightly lost in the whine but the intent was clear.

"I wanna spread you open on my bed, with my fingers, my tongue, lick your tight sweet ass into opening for me, wanna hear you scream and beg for me while my fingers fuck you. Would you do it Dean? Would you beg for me?"

Another choked whine.

"Yeah, I think you would. I think you'd get off on it. Being at my mercy, my tongue in your ass, my hands holding you down, not letting you move. I'd make you come without touching your dick Dean, you know I can do that don't you? Then I'd slip my cock into you. You'd be so wet Dean, so open, I'd just slide in, fuck you forever Dean. Fuck you until you came again and I'd just keep going through the pain. You like some pain don't you Dean?" Dean came, gasping into Jensen's neck, wanting everything Jensen said, every single thing.

"Dirty... fucking... mouth."

"Mhmmm, so true." And to confirm it, Jensen lifted his fist up and licked away all traces of Dean's come from his fingers.

Then he left the booth and Dean was left there alone, with his dick hanging out, and perhaps his tongue too.

\--

Jensen was maybe a little giddy. It might have had something to do with the alcohol, but more likely it had a lot to do with Dean and his amazing ability to get turned on by anything Jensen does.

Christian and Steve were sitting across from him, trying to talk to him it appeared, but he was busy kissing and giggling into Dean's neck. Dean was being all _serious boyfriend_ , drinking responsibly and keeping an arm around Jensen to help him stay sitting and not toppling over, and he thought it was adorable.

"You're adorable."

Dean looked at him with fond amusement and kissed his forehead. _Cause he was adorable like that._

Jensen saw Steve smiling at them and smiled back. Steve liked Dean. And Steve was smart and good judge of character. Christian sucked though.

"You're an ass."

Christian rolled eyes at him. "Yeah, we've been through that, Jen. I apologized to your _awesome_ boyfriend and bought him a beer. All's right with the world."

"Are you my boyfriend Dean?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, Dean. Are you his boyfriend?" Sam batted lashes at Dean until Shelly smacked him. Jensen liked Shelly.

Dean kissed him below the ear and whispered, "Guess I am."

**

A few hours later and Jensen was practically asleep on his _boyfriend's_ shoulder. Dean was having a discussion with Steve and Kane over merits of classic rock against... basically all other music in existence.

Sam was kissing Shelly, pretty much ignoring everyone else. Jensen thought about how nice they looked together. Sam was huge and she looked kinda tiny next to him, and it still looked like she was the one holding him.

Jensen's eyes were slipping shut and he relaxed into Dean's hold, trusting the other man to keep him up. He was awoken some time later by Dean's kisses and teasing words,

"Wake up lightweight, lets find you a bed huh?"

"Yours."

"What?"

"Wanna sleep in your bed."

"Yeah, okay. Gotta get up to go there though."

"I can totally do that."

Dean's laughter poked his ego and he was standing in a second. And falling over. _Shit_.

Dean caught him and held him up as they walked to the car. He put Jensen in the back seat while Sam sat next to Dean and Jensen was about to protest, but then his head sort of slipped into Shelly's lap and it was soft and warm so he slept some more instead.

When they came through the door of Dean's room Jensen had a full proof plan. He'd throw himself on Dean and kiss him senseless and then there'd be wild drunken sex.

Well, he threw himself at Dean.

**

Jensen woke up very early in the morning, spread over Dean, his head pounding and his mouth completely dry. He wondered how badly he'd regret drinking any water right now but soon realized it didn't much matter as he couldn't move anyway.

In a flash he remembered what happened last night. He had gotten drunk. Really, really, drunk. And kissed in public. Even before he got drunk. And through it all he just relied on Dean to make it all okay if something went wrong. He should worry about this. _Dean. Happy._ Sleep lured him back in.

Next time he woke up the room was still dark, this time cause the curtains were pulled. Outside though the sun seemed to be pretty high up. He was alone in the bed. There was a glass and a couple of Advils on the nightstand and, grateful as he was for them, he would still have appreciated Dean being next to him, more.

He noticed a message perched on the glass.

"I had to go help a friend. I'll be back in a day or two. Make yourself at home. You're not very sexy when you're drunk. :) D."

_Not sexy. Whatever. ... Smiley faces aren't sexy._

He went in search of bathroom and saw Sam working on his laptop. After he made some coffee he sat next to Sam and let himself ease back into life. Sam wasn't moving his eyes from the screen much. He'd just make a note in a huge book with strange drawings every now and then.

"Sorry, I'm ignoring you, man, but... research."

"Nah, it's okay. Do your thing."

He wanted to ask where Dean was. If he was out "head-hunting", is that what "helping a friend" stood for. Was Dean in danger, now, while he was sitting here drinking his coffee?

Sam noticed his mood shift and asked what was wrong.

"I don't know where he is."

Sam seemed shocked. "What?! I told him to write you a note, don't tell me just up and left..."

Jensen lifted his hands up as in surrender, "No, no. He said he left to help a friend. I just... I don't know where or with what or if he's..." he waved his hands to indicate _in trouble,_ he hoped, "or if I even have the right to worry." He smiled then. "Or why I should bitch to his brother about that." He let his forehead hit the table.

Sam's voice sounded like he was smiling when he answered. "He's helping our old friend Bobby with a hunt somewhere in Minnesota. If you want to know whether or not he can get hurt... yeah, always, comes with the job. But Dean is the best. He enjoys helping people and bringing down the bad guys and sometimes even thinks before he acts if he has a good enough reason to." Sam looked at him pointedly at that. "The best you can do is be there for him when he comes back and not make him doubt himself. You _should_ care. It's good that you do. Good for him. Sometimes he forgets he's worth people caring for him. And, I'm probably the best person to talk to about it since Dean will never talk about himself like this, and I used to do the job too so I know what I'm talking about there as well."

Jensen couldn't really believe Sam used to do that. Huge as he was, there was certain calm, perhaps sadness, about him sometimes that made it impossible for Jensen to see him hurt another person, whatever the reason. But, perhaps one caused the other.

He thought about Sam's words and asked, "Why would he doubt himself? He sounded pretty sure what he's doing is the right thing."

"He doesn't doubt the job, he doubts his place in the world."

Jensen nodded. Not quite understanding yet, but willing to think about it.

**

Two days later he'd about had it with being the army wife. He was going to call Steve and meet him and ... talk about Dean probably. Then he got the call from Sam.

  
Dean came home but couldn't quite get out of bed yet. He'd told Sam _not_ to call Jensen but Sam thought Dean was being a baby so he called anyway.

"Come on over and help annoy him into recovery."

Jensen bit his lip as thoughts of what might have happened flooded his mind. But Dean was home, not in a hospital, so he couldn't be that bad, right?

\--

Dean was glaring darts at Sam's direction. He knew the idiot did _something_ , but couldn't figure out what. Sam was a great liar, but Dean always knew he was lying. Just never knew what about.

Sam just finished changing the bandages across his ribs and abdomen where three thin but deep cuts ran now, when doorbell rang and Sam smiled and Dean _knew_.

"You bastard."

Sam just kept on smiling and went to open the door.

Jensen looked scared when he came into the room and Dean wondered what Sam had told him to have him that worried.

"Whatever he said, it's not that bad."

"Yeah, obviously." Jensen was staring pointedly, and still scared, at Dean's bandages.

"Really, it's just some cuts, it'll heal in no time."

"Dean, your painkillers are on the nightstand, so is the juice, don't move unless you have to, I'm leaving you two alone now." Sam left the room and closed the door.

Jensen stood at the bottom of the bed shifting weight from leg to leg.

"Dude, quit the fidgeting, I'm nauseous enough. Come here."

He was worried though. Talking about hunting was one thing, even without the whole truth; but being faced with the consequences like this? He wondered if it would be too much for Jensen.

He had meant for Jensen to sit down next to him but instead the man took his shoes off and lay down on the bed. He put his face on Dean's shoulder and kissed it once before looking at Dean.

  
His eyes were damp but he wasn't crying. Dean was struck with the strength of emotions behind those eyes. He didn't understand. How could Jensen be so open about his feelings not even two weeks after they've met? Where was his self preservation? Dean figured it probably came with acting, being in touch with your inner self or whatever. But that didn't explain the trust Jensen was showing _him_ when he opened himself up like that.

"Sam says you need to sleep."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam is a mother hen. I need you to take your shirt off. _That_ would really help.

"And yet you didn't want me here."

Jensen's eyes looked hurt now and he wanted to comfort him, but Dean hated being wounded, and Jensen's trust was tearing him in all the wrong places even more than the icy claws of a long dead ghost did, so he lashed out instead. "Fuck, if you're gonna be a chick about this maybe you shouldn't have bothered coming here after all."

A quick knock at the door stopped Jensen's reply and Sam's head popped in. "I totally forgot. Jensen, he's a whiny little bitch when he's hurt, don't let him piss you off, all he really wants is a cookie and a cuddle."

__

_And it was all going so well._ Dean's projectile pillow hit closed door as he was left alone with Jensen again. This time the look on Jensen's face said _I've got your number,_ and Dean could admit defeat when he had to. "Sorry."

He slumped back with a pout and Jensen smiled victoriously. "Cookies I can't provide, but cuddling I'll do."

"Don't you..." But Jensen was taking his shirt off and in the next minute was spread as much over Dean as he could be while avoiding the bandages and Dean was choked by so much skin touching his.

"Don't even think about it lover boy. You're not getting any until... well," Jensen's smile was pure evil, "until Sam okays it."

Dean groaned. Great, now his brother controlled his sex life. "I knew there was a reason I didn't do relationships."

"I fell for you, baby." Jensen's response was too amused to be taken seriously but there was a hint of pout there too, that told Dean Jensen wasn't as immune to the forced hiatus as he'd like to appear.

"Oh well, you can always blow me."

"Actually, you're not supposed to strain yourself, _you_ can blow _me_."

Jensen was way too happy about all of this. Except that he wasn't, cause when Dean looked at him to reply, Jensen's eyes were scanning the bandages and his lip was in the process of being bitten bloody.

"Fuck, Jensen..." Dean whispered and pulled Jensen's lip from his teeth, "Don't."

Jensen looked at him like he was crazy to even think it. "Don't?! Are you kidding me? You're..."

"It's nothing. Trust me, I've had worse."

"That's not comforting."

"I know, I..." he didn't want to say he was sorry. He wasn't. It was part of his work. An ugly part of a much larger picture. He was not going to apologize for it. But he wondered again how long it would take for Jensen to up and leave now that he's seen this.

"I'm sorry."

_Yeah. It's not gonna stop you though._

"I sort of promised I wouldn't nag but seeing this... it turns me into a doting wife or something." Jensen laughed. "Is there anything I can do besides bestow my awesome naked chest upon you?"

And this was so not what Dean had expected. "No." He hugged Jensen closer "Besides, your boobs aren't nearly big enough to be _my_ wife."

He knew Jensen would have kicked him out of the bed for that if he wasn't in pain so he grunted a bit in fake hurt to remind him, just in case.

Jensen settled down on his shoulder, still careful but also still there.

Dean was drifting away to sleep when he heard the soft whispering sound. Jensen was singing to him.

\--

Dean was never big on staying in bed but Jensen seemed to have ways to make it happen.

When Sam walked into the room two days later, on his "Free-of-classes-joyous-freedom" day, Dean was lying in bed, his foot tapping against Jensen's thigh as Jensen sat on the bed reading a script.

Sam smiled "I think I forgot you have a job."

Jensen stuck his tongue out but shrugged. "I think I did too."

Dean's foot stopped the tapping. "I want a masseuse."

Sam saw Jensen roll his eyes and raised an eyebrow in question.

"He's been doing it all day. He invited himself to Vancouver for a few days and imagines I'm Brad Pitt so he's ordering all kinds of crap he'll never get."

Jensen continued reading his script completely unconcerned about Dean's look of indignant outrage. "I invited... Ha! I was _lured_ there with promises of sex and food and hot women."

Sam had to ask, "Lured?"

"I bought him a dictionary. Also, I didn't offer Jessica."

"You totally did."

Jensen ignored him again.

Sam sat down next to them and participated in the banter, but only half of him was really present. The rest was still standing by the bed shell shocked. _Dean is going to_ _Vancouver_ _. Dean is going to_ _Vancouver_ _because of Jensen. Dean is leaving. Dean has Jensen._

He was happy and sad, thrilled and upset, all at the same time. Dean had somebody.

Sam noticed Jensen looking at him as if he was trying to gauge his reaction and Sam decided to help out and smiled, clasping a hand on Jensen's shoulder. Jensen looked grateful and happy and the moment was clearly too soft for Dean who seemed to be gagging.

Sam couldn't help himself. He squeezed Jensen's shoulder silently telling him to play along and leaned in looking into Jensen's eyes. The other man must have understood as he leaned too and their faces were inches apart now, both of them pouting for a kiss when they got noses full of Dean's foot.

Sam threw his head back and laughed and Jensen smirked at frowning Dean, then took his foot and rubbed it until Dean moaned happily.

Banter continued, at everyone's expense, talk of serious things came and passed, they ordered food any played cards (Dean cheated, but Sam won cause he knew how Dean cheats) and Jensen smiled at them both in a way that made Sam wonder where Jensen's brother was and why none of this holiday was spent with his family. But Sam didn't poke. Directly. He didn't become as good a researcher as he was by being indiscreet.

Throughout the day he watched the two interact.

They were constantly touching, teasingly, distractedly, nervously, affectionately. Like every emotion they had could be expressed through the touch to the other. And considering every one of those was met with understanding and soothing or acceptance, he guessed they could. _A second conversation going on in the background._

He wondered if they knew how they looked. Like they knew each other their whole lives. Have had years of experience to learn the other's thoughts by flick of a muscle. _They did, sort of. Even in Jensen doesn't see it, the likeness is still there._

In the end it helped him understand why Dean was going with Jensen. Even if you weren't the one to put words to your emotions, closeness like this wasn't something you just walked away from. Sam was proud of Dean for realizing that. Proud that he was going after what he wanted even after everything he's been through, that he's fighting his fears to do something other than save someone else. Something for himself.

Sam's been proud of his brother for many things during his life, and this time was just like all the others, and so completely new all at once.

\--

Apparently Dean was afraid of flying. And there was no way they'd let the Impala on the plane anyway. Jensen rarely drove to Vancouver, but it's not like it hasn't happened before.

Still, driving with Dean was a whole new experience. Music choice was not to be questioned under penalty of death, food was greasy and attempted sex was sweaty. Separately, he didn't mind either of these things; shoving his face in the greasy paper while Dean tried to molest him in the back seat was never happening again though. Dean's blue balls ensured that.

Bitching aside, Jensen was having the time of his life. Dean wasn't lying; he did sort of lure him with promises of sex and food. But, time was passing, he knew Dean wasn't gonna mention anything, was probably not gonna call much either, even if he would _want_ to do both, so Jensen tested the waters.

Mentioned leaving, watched Dean frown, then fake not caring; mentioned calling and saw Dean dismiss it; then mentioned big bed and takeout and cold Vancouver nights and observed Dean fight his face lighting up like a Christmas tree, and failing.

So, behind the gentle, timid Jensen, who didn't know what he wanted or how to take it, hid a manipulative bastard who knew exactly what he wanted and how to make Dean give it. Jensen smiled and looked over at Dean chewing on chips and driving, looking content. Yeah, he so didn't have a problem with that discovery.

He wasn't happy about Dean driving with the scars not nearly healed enough, but both Dean and Sam assured him it would be okay. And so far Dean was holding up so Jensen just teased and nagged to keep them both awake but was actually feeling incredibly good.

**

"I'm disappointed. Deeply. And slightly ashamed to be seen with you right now," were Dean's first words upon entering Jensen's apartment.

"Are you." Dry.

"Where are the servants? Where is the pool? Where are the women standing in for furniture? Whips? Chains? Drugs?" His face was crestfallen.

Jensen decided to comfort him a bit and ran to his room coming back out with a huge purple dildo.

Dean walked over and took it, sighing as it slumped sadly. "It'll do I guess."

Jensen laughed and pulled him in for a dildo-crushing kiss. He was happy. Really, really stupidly happy. Dean, with him, in Canada, together. Words kept spinning in Jensen's mind as they kissed and he kept breaking apart to smile or giggle and Dean must have thought he was crazy, but Jensen didn't really care, cause Dean was with him now and he couldn't leave, so there.

"C'mon, I'll show you around."

The apartment was a part of a complex, and it wasn't big but it was comfortable and had a beautiful view of the park and, in the distance, the sea. Bedroom, bathroom, kitchen and living room with a huge LCD, PS and a wicked sound system. The guitar was in the bedroom, and Dean teased him for it before he kissed him quiet against the wall.

**

Jensen was lying on the couch waiting for Dean to finish his shower as he relived the past few days in his head.

He started picking up on subconscious little ways Dean and he communicated and was surprised at what he discovered.

He'd noticed that Dean was perfectly fine with most physical affection. Touching, kissing, even hugging were better than any tried and failed conversation. Jensen didn't usually know how to let other people know what he feels without making a big deal out of it with words and facial expressions. Since he didn't like that, he mostly said nothing, and people were convinced he was cold and shallow unless playing a character whose feelings were scripted.

  
But now, all he had to do when he saw something that took his breath away was reach for Dean and touch his shoulder and Dean would turn and look and smile and know.

He wondered if he could apply the same tactics to other people, but somehow doubted it. Dean was unique.

He smiled at the object of his analysis as it came out to loom over the couch in sweats and a black shirt too tight to hide any curve.

"You smell good."

Dean smiled back at him "Yeah, vanilla dude. What the hell."

Jensen laughed and stretched an arm to run his palm up Dean's thigh. _Hard._

Dean took his fingers and looking slightly embarrassed, asked, "Would you help me with something? I mean, I can do it alone, but it'd be easier if you helped."

"Sure, what is it?"

"I need to change the bandages."

Jensen choked on air. He hadn't seen the scars yet, he'd escaped the room every time Sam had come to check on them. He wasn't looking forward to it.

The feeling must have shown on his face since Dean kissed him quick and said "No, that's okay, you don't have to, it's not the prettiest site in the world," he finished with a smile and Jensen saw he really didn't mind, Jensen could take it or leave it. But he wanted to help. He really wanted to be able to be there so he'd do this, and learn to help and cope like Sam did.

"I want to."

Dean pulled everything they needed from his backpack and they went to the bathroom where Jensen could make a mess of things if he couldn't help it.

He lifted Dean's shirt and took the first look at the scars. They were so long and held together with Sam's tidy little stitches. They crossed the ribs and dripped almost to the navel. _The navel that could make Dean go crazy just by being breathed on._ For some strange reason Jensen knew he would have been pissed had the scars hurt the skin on the navel. He felt very protective of the tiny place. _It's mine._

He trailed a light finger down one of them and Dean shivered. _Fragile._ Then he bent down and kissed just above another one closing his eyes and waiting for his thoughts to settle.

  
He didn't want to know how it happened. He didn't want to be able to imagine everything that could happen every time Dean left.

"What do I do?"

Dean led him through the process, and he did it all, if with shaky hands. When the clean bandages were in place Jensen was kneeling in front of Dean who was looking at him fondly. Their eyes met and Jensen knew his smile was weak but he wasn't trying to pretend everything was okay, he was trying to say it will be.

Dean kissed him deeply, "Thank you," and let Jensen pull the shirt back over him even if he thought it was ridiculous.

Later that night when Jensen turned to Dean for the first time to sleep in his arms, neither of them commented, but Dean's breath in his hair was acceptance enough.

Sunday dawned sunny and beautiful. Dean woke up and tried to stare the sun back down.

He closed the drapes, considered going right back to sleep but flopped on top of Jensen instead and woke him up.

"I hate you."

"No you don't."

"I might as well for all the sex you'll be getting. Get off."

Dean licked stripes over Jensen's face and watched him gag and try to escape. He winced in pain when Jensen kicked his ribs and he saw the other man turn serious with the speed of light

"Are you all right?"

"Of course I am, little pillow. You could only suffocate me."

Predictably, Jensen's eyes sparkled dangerously and the battle continued even if Jensen was more careful now.

"Dude, _why_?"

There was a hint of desperation in Jensen's voice and Dean had to laugh. "Why not? You can show me around the city, take me to breakfast, blow me... I'm not picky."

"Fine, if I blow you will you let me sleep?"

"Sure.”

"Ok, flip."

"Huh?“

"I can't blow you if you're on top of me.”

"Sure you can."

Now it was Jensen's turn to huh.

"Just open up, I'll do all the work."

"You're wounded. Flip."

"I'm not that wounded. Open."

Jensen opened his mouth to protest but Dean slipped his thumb in, cupping Jensen's cheek with the palm. For all he protested, Jensen was as responsive as ever. His tongue started doing wicked things to the pad of his finger, making his cock wake up and stretch like a lazy teenager. _Fuck._ Jensen had a way with his tongue.

But, he didn't want to just pop it in and get it over with. No, Jensen was way too much fun to just be used like that. His thumb still in Jensen's mouth he kissed a wet trail between the nipples and around them, felt Jensen re-adjust his position which made his boxers clad cock slide on Dean's abs.

"Hmm, I thought you were just gonna lie there, I'm not gonna have to take care of you as well, am I?"

Jensen bit into his thumb then shouted "Fusk!" wetly around it when Dean sucked on a nipple cruelly.

"Now, now, you know you don't like it as rough as I do, so be a good boy and I'll think about letting you come too."

He laughed when Jensen practically spat the finger from his mouth and fought him to get up, shouting about Dean never seeing his dick again and virginity belts until he actually escaped the bed.

Dean grabbed his hips and turned him around, attaching his mouth to the cotton hiding the perfect thing he was never to see again. As he mouthed up the cock he looked up, mock-pleading and watched the battle of annoyance and arousal on Jensen's face.

"You're an idiot."

A palm cupping and lifting the balls was the only reply.

"Fuck."

Dean slipped the boxers off of Jensen and a half hard cock caressed his cheek. He pulled and maneuvered Jensen back on the bed. "C'mon, I'll blow you if you blow me."

"Tell you what," Jensen's face had that glow now, the one that was starting to cause a Pavlovian reaction in Dean. He was instantly ready to come. "Why don't we do it together."

Dean's brain did a little double take then rebooted before he answered by taking his clothes off and lying over Jensen, his face in Jensen's crotch, cock bumping into Jensen's nose. He swallowed Jensen's dick without preamble, just happy to taste the other man, musky after the warm night. Jensen's sighs and moans were coming in rhythm to the fluttering of his tongue and suction at the tip of the sensitive head.

He felt Jensen play with pillows under his head and then... he should have known better, Jensen's evil glow never came with the obvious. He shouted and choked on Jensen as strong thumbs spread his ass cheeks and his ass was broken into without preparation by a tiny, silky, wet tongue. The pain was just enough to make Dean wonder but Jensen didn't give him time to think, he just flicked the tongue rubbing the nerve endings at the entrance, every time slicker and moving in easier and deeper until all that was left were pleasure and tingling.

Dean felt nails bite into his ass before he realized he was sucking on the head mercilessly, holding it in place with lips and ... fuck. Teeth. Jensen whined as the sharp pressure was released but the sound was muffled by Dean's ass, and that really did nothing to help Dean come down from his high.

Jensen's tongue went back to rimming him deeper and deeper, his face now pressed into Dean's skin and Dean had a really hard time doing anything but gasping and moaning and slobbering around Jensen's cock. He tried, somewhat, to participate and not just let his mouth be fucked, but then Jensen sucked around the rim and his tongue went stiff and deep and Dean's last rational thought was that he hoped he wouldn't drown when Jensen came. His head fell down, so every tilt of Jensen's hips hit the back of his mouth, relaxed, and let it happen.

His dick was rubbing on some soft spot around Jensen's collar bone and his ass seemed to be pleading for more with every move. Jensen wasn't the most merciful of men though. He never gave more, never slipped a finger or grabbed hold of Dean's dick or balls. The only slight mercy _hell_ was that, every now and then, Jensen's chin would press just behind Dean's balls, perfectly. But since that usually made Dean groan and swallow around Jensen's dick, he somehow doubted that move had anything to do with _his_ pleasure.

Minutes passed. Dean was going slowly insane, breathing limited by the evil man's dick stretching his mouth and throat; his ass assaulted by the amazing tongue from hell, stretching, flicking the rim of the entrance until Dean tried pleading, then twisting and jabbing into him like it was fucking him, but not nearly enough; his dick, his poor hard, probably purple, neglected dick still finding only partial relief in that same spot, barely rubbing. Dean was ready to beg, cry, do fucking anything for _just a bit more_.

He tried to get his arms working. If he managed to get Jensen off surely that would make him stop. But all he managed was to hug the thighs and choke the dick even deeper. If he survived this, he promised himself, he would run like the hell was after him next time Jensen got that look

Then something, finally something else tickled his balls and there were fingers circling the head of his tortured dick, pulling and twisting, pleasure _was_ the pain, and he was coming in thick long spurts, not caring that the other man was coming into his mouth, letting the come dribble out as he spasmed all around Jensen.

When their breathing evened out a bit he kissed up the flaccid dick, scooping the loose come, cleaning Jensen up with his tongue. He turned back and Jensen pulled him in. He was ready for a kiss but Jensen's hand led him lower, to his chest and abdomen where Dean's come had pooled. He looked at Jensen's eyes and saw something there. Like he waited for Dean to refuse. When his tongue started lapping up the come, eyes still fixed on Jensen's, he felt the other man shiver under him and the hand on his neck relax and just hold on shakily.

He pulled up for a kiss and when it was over Jensen's words stopped him mid track. " _Thank you."_ Fuck. _Fuck!_ The kid was killing him. You don't give someone the orgasm of their life and thank them. _Too open. Too trusting. Too vulnerable._ Evil sex god slash lost boy; what the hell Jensen?

" _You_ ’re insane." Dean's words were muffled in Jensen's neck while he covered it with kisses. _Insane. John would have freaked if he had to raise you._

"Hm." Jensen seemed to be happy with that development. "I need to pee."

"You romantic you.

"I'll write a song about our big gay love while I'm there, I promise, now get off, you're sitting on my bladder, dude.

And so it was that Dean _almost_ made peace with the fact that Jensen was just _that trusting_.

He was worse than Sam in some aspects, ‘cause he didn't do the talking and hugging. He could fool you into thinking he's a totally normal guy. But then he'd look at you and he was all just _there_ _\- I think you're awesome and I want to experiment on you sexually and bring you home with me so we can make breakfast together._

It drove Dean crazy. And not in the good tongue-in-ass way. How the hell can he be an actor and not hide himself better? But he remembered watching an episode of the show Jensen was on, _Sam made him_ , when he played the psycho guy, Ben, and the performance was amazing, even Dean could see that. Which meant Jensen could hide if he wanted to, which meant he didn't want to with Dean. And what the hell was up with that!

Dean was up and in Jensen's space as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom. "What's wrong with you? Why are you so... so..." Dean's hands were flailing around searching for words to grab. Jensen just stood there, his high eyebrow mocking him. "Don't you ever hide anything?

"You're upset ‘cause I don't lie to you?

"I'm not upset."

If at all physically possible the mocking eyebrow shot higher.

"Just answer the question."

"I hide plenty."

Jensen walked by Dean and got into bed again turning to fall asleep before Dean spoke again, "Not from me."

Jensen turned towards him and with a weary sigh said, "I get that you're emotionally blocked. Really, I do. I don't even mind much ‘cause I know you have your reasons. It's not that you don't feel, it's that you don't talk about it. And that's okay. But I like you. I want to be with you in more ways than one. And if we're both gonna be constipated about it, it's just not gonna work. So I'll do my thing, show you where we are in this relationship, like a compass or a thermometer, and you do your thing, which is sticking around, and we'll be just fine. And, if you ever make me talk about this again I'll be instating sex-embargo for at least a month.

He turned to sleep again and Dean went to the bathroom, quietly, came back and slid under the covers quietly, mumbled, quietly, pouting while he pressed himself against Jensen's back minding the scars and shuffling to get comfortable.

\--

Jensen woke up to the sounds of AC/DC blasting through his sound system, wondering how it was possible for a several thousand dollars worth of electronics to sound so crappy.

_Cause 20 year old tape can't sound good on anything?  
Dean._

He crawled out of bed with thoughts of coffee swimming around his head, and stepped into his living room only to stop and gape.

"What the hell are you doing??"

An old phonograph was taken apart spread out in tiny and large pieces all over the floor, Dean seated in the middle, removing a piece from the bottom of the horn.

"It doesn't work." was Dean's calm reply.

"Yeah. I know it doesn't. That doesn't mean you get to break it."

Dean looked at him with a smirk. "I didn't break it, I'm fixing it."

"You don't know how to fix a phonograph."

"And you don't know everything about me." Dean's face was emotionless when he said that and Jensen bit his tongue on a vicious retort.

"It belonged to my grandfather. Grandma gave it to me after he died. I don't..." He sighed. He didn't want to lose it. He lost touch with so much of his family these past few years, but he loved his grandpa, and this was a part of him which wasn't meant to lie around broken into bits dammit.

"Look, I'll try to fix it. If I can't, I'll put it back together so it can gather dust compactly again. Okay?"

_No._ But how fucking late is it to ask now?

Dean must have sensed Jensen's anger not abating since he lifted a hand in Jensen's direction and invited him closer. He pulled Jensen on the floor next to him, careful of the knots and bolts and spirals around.

"Look at this. The pieces are whole, just separated. Old phonographs weren't made of crappy plastic. They were made of solid wood, composite-wood core and metal that would last for a long time if taken care of. And this baby was cared for.

All these pieces fit just one way, I can't mess them up. But the sound was created through vibrations, so if just one of them is broken or dirty or scratched, it's not the same. The sound loses power, or disappears completely, like it did here. 

I'll try to fix it, see what's wrong. And if I can't, I'll put it together just like it was, you won't know the difference. I should have asked, I didn't know it was that important. But I'm not gonna break it. Okay?"

Jensen was still upset but he looked at Dean's deft fingers holding a small wooden part, as sure of what they were doing as when they were touching him. Yeah, Dean would put it back. Maybe he could even fix it. "OK."

Jensen made coffee and sat on the couch watching Dean.

In the car, where Dean was joking and gesturing lively and with the leather jacket peaking from the back seat, this music fit Dean, like an extension of everything he was or did.

But now, Dean surrounded by fragile pieces of history, family, turning them, cleaning, touching almost reverently but with absolute certainty, the music clashed with him. He looked like he needed glasses and classical music almost silent in the background.

Jensen sipped the cooling coffee and tried to place Dean in a different life. One where he didn't have scars on his chest, where calluses on his fingers weren't made by the trigger and gun hold but tools used to build things, fix them, make them better.

But guns and death didn't stop Dean from being here, now. Fixing this heirloom. He wondered how Dean balanced it all, if he himself would have been so strong.

"Stop staring at me."

Jensen smiled behind the mug, "But you're so pretty."

Dean turned to him, incredulous. "You've lost it, man."

Jensen slipped on his side on the couch and spent the next few hours alternating between looking at Dean and reading his script.

After those few hours Dean announced he was done for the day.

Jensen must have been projecting a lot of skepticism at the still exploded phonograph, since Dean offered without having to be asked.

"I need to order some parts, they are broken beyond repair. It's gonna take a few days for them to get here but I'm pretty sure I know who to talk to."

"You know someone who has spare parts for a phonograph."

"My... The guy I order some stuff from every now and then, has a friend who's into old things. He should know what I need even better than I do. And where to get them."

Dean grimaced as he stretched after a few hours of sitting on the floor looking at a functional 3D puzzle.

"Go lie down, I'll give you a massage."

Dean leered at him and winked.

"No, you pervert. An actual massage. Then we can sleep more." Jensen sighed happily at thought of even more sleep.

"And then you'll take me to see Vancouver."

"Fine. Then I'll take you to see friggin Vancouver. You tourist."

Dean left for the room grinning and twisting his shoulders.

**

Jensen sat on Dean's thighs, looking out for the scars Dean was basically lying on. Shirtless. And... naked.

"Dean."

"Jensen."

"I'm not gonna massage your prostate."

"Man... I'm never gonna get hard again."

"It's a pity."

Jensen spilled some massage oil on Dean's back and laid his palms at the top of the spine. He started the slow rubbing and squeezing down and then up the back, making Dean groan and relax and then pretty much melt.

"You should have been a hooker."

"You mean a masseur?"

"No."

Jensen smiled and made a totally fatal mistake of looking down at Dean's ass. So he lied. Whatever.

He let the massage oil dribble down Dean's ass, pressed a hand at the base of the spine to hold him down and said "Watch your scars" in a level voice. Next, he pressed a thumb to Dean's opening.

Dean gasped and his arms scrambled for purchase on the sheets. "God damn Jensen fuckit."

Words were slightly breathless and Jensen whispered his approval. He circled the hole slowly and rubbed Dean's back with the other hand, waiting for him to relax before he pushed the finger half way in, enjoying the raspy broken sounds Dean was making. He leaned down kissing the top of Dean's ass, licking the two little dimples above it.

"Fucking.... insatiable."

 _Insatiable._ He liked that word. So much better than _nympho_. When Dean relaxed again, he slowly pushed the rest of the finger in and slipped a hand between Dean's cock and bed, to help. He pressed on the prostate in short taps constantly and Dean was trying so hard to stay calm cause of the scars, he was shaking under Jensen's hands. Instead of moving he made all the more noise, louder and less coherent. Jensen loved those sounds.

He was still raining soft kisses on the back, a bit higher now though, as he lowered his boxers and placed the tip of his cock to Dean's opening, pulling his finger out. Dean stiffened instantly.

Jensen laid what he hoped was a soothing hand on Dean's hip and held his dick in the other.

"Jensen."

"Dean. We keep having this conversation."

Jensen licked a long stripe along Dean's spine until he realized Dean wasn't about to relax again. He sighed and whispered at Dean's ear, "Don't you trust me at all?"

"Kinda hard to talk about that with your dick there and no prep in sight."

"Hmm, true. I guess I'll have to earn it then."

Jensen sat back on Dean's thighs, his dick still in firm hold, and placed the tip at the entrance. He pressed slightly up and the head slipped along the hole instead in it, causing friction, making them both moan.

It didn’t really hit Jensen until then, that Dean was still lying there, not fighting him like he would have if he really didn't trust him. Something in Jensen moved, slipped and fell into place.

He continued the slow thrusting, rubbing himself on Dean's ass until he came, then scooped the come with one hand and made his fist warm and wet for Dean's dick to slide through. His thumb found its way back into Dean, quite literally massaging his prostate until Dean was coming and shaking in release all over Jensen's hand. Jensen cleaned them up, refusing to think about anything at the moment, and covered them so they took a nap together.

Dean looked confused, he knew something was up, but Jensen didn't even know where to start, so he just held on to Dean and waited for all the feelings in him to settle.

\--

Dean ended up being the one who dragged Jensen into downtown Vancouver.

  


Main street,Chinatown, Punjabi, Jensen thought the food was an absolute rip off but Dean thrived on it. They spent most of the time inStanleyPark. Prospect Point was probably amazing, but Dean couldn’t see it over his ice cream. Then Jensen manhandled him to the Aquarium because he had a strange obsession with fish, _Sharks. Whatever._ But in the end Dean was the one almost thrown out for bonding with the otters. _Look Jensen! They are blowing themselves! I’m sorry ma’am, they are blowing the fur Dean, the fur. That’s what I said!_

  


And in some back alley in Gastown, a guy gave them a pamphlet for a music gig in a local bar and they spent a few hours listening to the band mutilate their instruments before they escaped giggling like kids.

"Man they were horrible." Jensen threw his jacket on the couch and flopped on it still smiling and looking at Dean.

"At first I though I'd gone deaf, then I wished I did. We have to go see them again. But with way more alcohol next time. And possibly some pot."

Jensen's laughter boomed around the room and Dean sat on the floor next to the couch, his head bumping into Jensen's shoulder.

"But Vancouver is fun. I can't believe you dissed it like that, I thought it was gonna suck."

Jensen shrugged. "I never saw it like this before. The first time I came I got a tour of the museums, and you know, culture is good and all, but you want to spread it around a bit, not get blisters on your feet.

Later I pretty much stuck to what I knew when I was here, and every free day I just ran back to LA. I'm kinda glad I did this with you though."

"You're such a sap."

Dean felt Jensen's lips brush his hair, "Maybe."

Dean turned to look at Jensen for a moment and saw that strange look again. Something happened earlier today and Jensen, as much as he was laughing and talking, seemed to have other things on his mind. Jensen scooted to make room for him but Dean shook his head no. He wanted to know what was wrong.

"So. What's going on?"

Jensen looked confused by the sudden change of topic, but Dean pushed on not concerned.

"Something's been bothering you since this morning. Is it about the phonograph?"

Jensen's confused face was soon replaced by understanding and then surprise.

Dean mentally rolled his eyes. Yes, it was always assumed he had no idea what was going on with people around him. He wasn't an idiot though. Most of the time he chose to let people solve their own problems. Except for Sam of course, cause Sam was his responsibility and his problems were Dean's problems.

And now Jensen. Cause he said so.

"Yeah, I'm full of surprises."

"I don't even know. It's just... why did you do it?"

Dean frowned in confusion. "So it is about the phonograph?"

"No. No. When I... You said you didn't trust me, but you were just lying there."

Ah shit. _Should know not to ask stupid questions by now_ _Winchester_ _._ Although. He did know one thing. "I never said I don't trust you." He turned his back to Jensen and leaned against the couch again.

Jensen hugged him from behind with one hand over the chest and shoved his face into Dean's neck, obviously his favorite hiding place. It didn't look like he was even gonna try to break the moment with a joke.

"Jensen..."

But he cut in. "Yeah, sappy. I know. Just. We've known each other for less than a month."

_What are the chances of this conversation ending well?_

"I can joke with you about stuff anyone else would be mortally offended with. I can be a sap and ignore your bitching about it and still know you really hear me. I can be myself. It's... strange. Too much maybe. I keep waiting for something to pop up that will crash it all. And, sorry, but I kind of expect you to do it. Freak out about us, choke me for talking about my feelings too much. Something. But then you just lie there and... I wanna take you home to meet my mother, you know?"

"Rubbing yourself on my naked ass makes you want to introduce me to your parents? Is it a cultural thing? Will everyone in Texas try to rub my ass?"

Jensen hit him on the head until a permanent injury became a real possibility. Dean stopped him by grabbing his hands and pushing them behind his back, sitting on Jensen's ass now.

He knew what Jensen meant. It was all too soon, but it felt so damn real. It might fall apart in a day, one wrong word or a push too far, all the limits were still unknown and had to be tested. Accepting a new person into your life is never just a matter of "hello my name is let's be friends", especially not for the Winchesters. But for the fist time in forever, Dean was willing to try. And that in itself was huge.

He leaned over Jensen, holding him pinned with his body and strong hands. A bite to the tip of one ear and Jensen was trembling. _So responsive._

"I know. But there's time. And one day we'll know each other for more than a month." He saw Jensen smile and bent his head to push their lips together, with Jensen's cheek still pressed into the couch. Dean's one hand let go of his hold to grab Jensen's ass low behind the balls.

"Honestly, man. How can you even get it up again?"

"I'm inspired." Dean managed to get one hand between Jensen and the couch and undid the jeans. He had them, and the boxers, down in seconds.

"Hey!"

"Shush.”

"Don't shush me!"

Dean laughed. Jensen's smart mouth was as much fun as the sex. And wasn't that a scary thought.

He slid one hand around Jensen's balls and pushed them up rhythmically. "You know, you have a beautiful dick."

Jensen shoved his face in the couch and mumbled "You have got to be kidding me."

"No, not at all. Here, turn around." He raised himself a bit, forced a not completely willing Jensen on his back and sat gently on his thighs.

He took hold of the half hard cock in front of him. "See, the head." he placed two licked finger pads on the head, each on one side of the slit. "Porn star perfect. Really, look at this." Suddenly it was an order not a request, "Look, Jensen."

Jensen looked down his body just as Dean slid two fingers down the head and around the rim, watching Jensen's eyes change as his cock started responding.

Dean scooted a bit and licked a wet circle around the head, finished with a wet pop at the tip. "It's all red now, almost like your lips. Begs to be kissed." He rubbed the two fingers ever so lightly around the slit, knowing the tickling feeling just created the need for more.

He let them slip down the whole length and pressed along the vein.

"So long. I guess everything is bigger in Texas. When you finally do fuck me, I'll feel it for days. Like you've marked me." He sucked up and down the underside, then around, licking as much as he could, Jensen's breathy gasps moving him on.

"And all the tiny little veins." He tracked his fingers over a few of them, Jensen cursing him for more. "I wonder if I'd be able to feel them. If you'd stretch me so much I'd actually feel them pulse with blood when you're in me." Precome was forming on the slit now and Dean spread it over the thick blue vein.

"What do you think?" He pouted. "Probably not. Such a shame."

He sucked the spread precome and sat up again. "So fucking soft to touch. Feel it." He took Jensen's hand and placed a few fingers, entwined with his, on the shaft.

“Dean…”

"You feel how soft it is? Sticky too." He smiled and Jensen smiled back through the panting.

"Fuck…”

"Mmmm, yeah." He nodded. "But, man. For all it's soft to the touch... if sucking _melts_ under my tongue." He slipped his tongue between and around Jensen's fingers, felt his hips jump up when he licked under the head.

When he bent to lick more Jensen grunted and Dean opened his eyes. He caught a sight that made his own dick pulse precome and his face break in an evil smile.

"Jensen?"

"M?"

"Did you know you have freckles on your dick?"

"I do not!"

"Oh. You really, really do. Four of them. Right here.” He placed a gentle finger over them, "I'll have to name those, you know that right?" He was breathing at the head now, barely touching the sensitive skin.

"Dean." Jensen almost whined.

"I guess I can do that later." He licked a long stripe of promise over the freckles and cupped the head with his palm, blowing warm air at it, pressing soft kisses, waiting for the precome to come out so can lap it up.

"But you know what I love the most about it? Even more than my new four best friends?"

"No you bastard." Jensen gritted through closed teeth.

"The taste, baby. Fucking addictive." He started lapping at the head furiously now, licking away the wetness tasting of Jensen, imprinting it to his memory along with sounds and smells.

Jensen's hand was in his hair, trying to make him do some actual sucking. "What's the matter baby, can't come like this?"

Jensen's hair was a mess, his pupils blown and mouth whispering words no boy should know. But his cock was constantly just barely hard, pleasure just that little bit out of reach.

His fingers were trying to stroke the cock but Dean held them steady and just licked at the head like anything inside was his for the taking. He licked wet the pad of his thumb and started rubbing soft circles at the bundle of nerves under the head. Jensen's neck arched and Dean sucked hard at the slit.

"Fucking bastard I'm gonna kill you when I get off!"

"Not very stimulating, is it."

Jensen looked at him totally shocked "You're evil."

"It's been suggested.”

"How long?"

"Hm?"

"How fucking long will you just lick at it?"

"Why? You wanna bargain?" Dean slowed down, "You don't think I can do it all night? Just keep the precome coming until I can't ever taste anything again without tasting you first?"

Jensen stopped breathing for a moment.

Dean was making his thinking face and licked where his thumb was still circling gently. Another drop of liquid came through the slit and he smiled happily licking it up.

"Don't you dare."

"What've you got to offer?" Dean knew he was pushing. But he had a theory, and this was a good time to test it. For Jensen, sex still meant giving, even if it was giving-of-what-he-wanted-to-give as opposed to just laying himself bare. But figuring out how to give by taking, that was the key. That’s what Dean wanted him to do.

"I'll, I'll blow you. You can fuck me. Anything. I promise."

"Nah, not so much into it right now." He took Jensen's balls in his hand and mouthed, licked and sucked them for a long time, watching precome pool at the tip, leak down, then pool again.

Jensen was practically shaking now.

"You got more?" Anticipating the answer he licked up the shaft to the shiny precome leaking out of and down the head.

"What... please... what do you want?"

Dean looked him straight in the eyes, shrugged like he wasn't sure, and held his tongue out as he collected every last drop from the head, then swallowed visibly, never breaking eye contact.

Realization dawned on Jensen's face and Dean smirked on the inside, face still impassive. Hopefully.

"I'll come." Jensen said it one breath.

"Hm?"

"I'll come." A bit louder this time.

Dean looked down pretending to consider it. "For me?"

"For... fuck... for you."

Dean kissed down the shaft. "Where?"

"What?" Jensen's voice was high pitched.

"Where will you come?"

"Anywhere!"

"I _know_ you can do better than that." Dean slipped his lips around the head now and started suckling.

Jensen whined and threw his head back. But when he looked back down a few moments later, Dean saw insecurity in his eyes he had to make disappear.

"Where will you come for me baby?" His voice was almost a whisper and with each word he touched the soft skin, their eyes still locked together. His arms came around Jensen's hips, hugging them and pulling him closer.

Jensen's reply was tentative, unsure. "In your mouth."

Dean rewarded it with a wet kiss at the base of the dick but then waited again. _Words Jensen, say it._

"God damn it! I will come in your fucking mouth just suck me already please you fucking cock tease!"

It was hard to smirk and choke on a cock at the same time but Dean managed.

Jensen shook when he finally came some minutes later, completely spent as Dean clucked his tongue, visibly enjoying the taste. He was looking at Dean curiously beneath the drooping eyelids.

"You need a hand?"

"Not right now."

"Good."

Jensen smiled and Dean let him rest, content enough to wait a few minutes.

The next few days started a new pattern.

Jensen would go to work, get back home and spend quality time with Dean who in turn spent his days re-building the phonograph and, if he felt like it, did odd jobs for a few mechanics who orgasmed at the sight of the Impala.

They'd play PS, Dean would help him go through the script for the next day, someone would make or order dinner and some time during the day sex would happen. It’s not that it became irrelevant, it’s just that it became okay to simply lay together and watch TV or tease each other over cards and beer.

A few times Dean had asked about Jensen's Vancouver friends, he avoided the subject pretty expertly. Fact was, he wasn't that close to any of the crew. He got along with his stunt man, he was a cool guy, and the only one, other than Michael and Jessica, that he got to see on a regular basis. No one else he was really good with lived there, and the few acquaintances he did have, he wasn't sure he could introduce to Dean without being exposed.

The job still sucked. No. The environment still sucked. Michel would now come to the set even on his days off just to make sure Jensen doesn't touch his precious flower.

Jessica, on the other hand, treated him like she was trying to prove to Michael that she wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole. Weatherly though somehow wasn't receiving the message.

So the shoots were tense and Alec was pissy and he was _still_ not allowed to punch anyone.

Most of the time he tried to get rid of the crappy mood before he got home. Sometimes he succeeded. Other times he'd occupy Dean in other ways to stop him asking any more questions.

Today was a really bad day. He spent hours in the fucking harness as Jessica fumbled and flopped her lines, then got thrown into the wall still dangling in the damn harness more times than he cared to remember when she'd push him harder than she was supposed to.

He was bruised, in pain and cranky. And since he wasn't allowed to retaliate he was also frustrated and itching for a fight. Dean was the only target in view.

Jensen pushed and prodded: glass rings on the table, clothes spread everywhere, crappy music, loud TV, salty food, no more milk. Dean bore the brunt of it like a champion. Smiling and nodding, soft touches and understanding. Like he was dealing with an upset child. It pissed Jensen off even more. _Fight with me damn it!_

He pushed and pushed and pushed some more. "I thought you came here for a few days, didn't know you planned to move in."

Slam of the door was pretty final.

It satisfied his need to hurt someone and through dull pain he also felt release of the frustration. _I still have some control._

Five minutes later the adrenaline was wearing off and the name calling started. He decided to let himself and Dean cool off a bit. He'd apologize. It'd be okay.

Ten minutes later he saw the phonograph. Put together and back in its place, record waiting to be played. He walked to it and set the needle, started the song. As raspy, crackling sounds of “Stormy Weather” filled the room he realized Dean's not gonna come back. He sat on the floor with his forehead on the phonograph’s cabinet.

_I'm sorry._

_He can't hear you._

_I'm sorry!!_

He reached for the phone and started his exercise in futility. "You've reached..." Thirteen times in succession. Five more a few hours later.

It was dawn when he fell on Dean's side of the bed exhausted, pushing his face into Dean’s pillow, imagining the familiar warmth around him.

He was not giving up, he'd go after Dean in the morning, but he needed some rest or he'd pass out. Tomorrow he'd find Dean and plead temporary insanity.

Something woke him from his restless sleep back into the nightmare that was his life. He didn't want to open his eyes, and start the long, slow swim through the crap of his own making just yet.

When he finally did open them, he found himself staring at a hallucination. Dean, sitting on the floor, leaning on the wall across form him, watching him. He stared as long as he could, trying not to blink, not wanting to lose the beautiful apparition. But time passed and Dean was still there, not saying anything, just sitting with his long legs stretched in front of him and his head slightly bent.

Jensen stopped caring about pride and pain in his bones and "manly". He fucked up, it was time to crawl. He was out of the bed, and swatting at Dean's hands trying to push him away, in a second. He sat on Dean's legs and framed the exhausted face in his palms trying to get Dean to meet his eyes.

"I'm sorry." he pressed a sticky kiss to Dean's lips. "I'm sorry." Kiss. "I didn't mean it." Kiss. "I'm an idiot." He leaned his forehead on Dean's. "Please, say something."

"I needed my stuff."

He felt nausea wash over him.

"Then I saw you and..."

Jensen slid his face in his hiding place. He wasn't gonna beg. Not with words. But his lips and hands shook on Dean's body, touching and petting soft, barely there, touches. _Please. Please._

"Next time you do this I'm just gonna sock you one."

Jensen was too afraid of hope to smile. He wanted to promise there's not gonna be a next time but that would have been a lie. He just nodded, safely tucked away in Dean's neck, waiting for Dean's arms to close around him, to really know it's over, Dean's forgiven him. _Touch me._ But they never came. They stayed on Dean's thighs and Jensen was at a loss for what to do. You don't buy guys flowers and candy, what... sex. Men love sex.

He started kissing down Dean's neck but was hauled up by his shirt, Dean's face a breath away from his, distorted by rage. "Don't you fucking dare!"

He had no idea what was wrong, what to apologize for. "I thought..."

"You were wrong."

Jensen was panicking now. What the hell was going on?

"Go back to bed Jensen."

"But..."

"Go." Dean pushed him off. "Go."

Jensen climbed the bed again, and lay down obediently, starring at Dean's stubborn face until he was ordered to sleep. He faked it until it actually happened, and it was many hours later that he felt Dean lay behind him, not touching him, but at least still there.

**

The alarm woke him up and reminded him that the harness is about to come back over the existing bruises in a bit, that Dean was pissed at him, and that there'll be no mercy for him today.

With a sigh he threw a quick look at Dean, not knowing what the proper procedure for fuckups who were in the process of being forgiven, was.

He took a shower and was back in the room, putting his boxers on, when a river of curses came, followed in a second by fingers touching his shoulders. _Touching!_

"What happened?!"

Jensen turned his head to look at the purpling shoulders and a few patches of skin peeled off his hips.

Dean's hands were turning him now, pushing towards bathroom, helping him sit on the bath tub. "Jensen? How?"

"Hanging scene, harness, idiot costar. What are you doing?"

Dean was taking things out of his bag. Things that looked like they could hurt. A bottle of something, a cream, cotton and gauze.

"Will it sting?"

"Are you six?"

"Why aren't you angry at me any more?"

"I am. That doesn't mean I want _someone else_ to beat you up."

"I'm sorry."

"Is this why?"

That would have been such a good excuse. "Kinda. But mostly no."

While he talked, Dean was cleaning the cuts on the irritated skin and treating him with exquisite care. Much more care than he deserved. When he was done talking about Jessica and Michael and the harness, Dean was done patching him up and was kneeling on the floor next to him.

"This isn't en excuse, it's just.. it's what happened. And you were there and I needed to fuck someone up so I don't feel like a total loser and you wouldn't fight me at all and then... I'm sorry."

Dean nodded. Jensen still waited for a touch that wasn't medical.

When Dean stood up he knew it wasn't coming. "C'mon, we have work to go to."

_Why won't you touch me? Wait… what?_

"We?"

"Yup. I'm coming with you."

That discussion lasted right until Jensen remembered he was basically getting a free pass, somewhat, on what happened the day before, and now was not the time to start a new argument. So, Dean could come along, drool over Jessica, _because people always did, no matter what they knew about her_ , and set the props people straight about harness-usage and Jensen-value, as long as he did both without making Jensen's life difficult.

They did agree nobody should know they're together though, Jensen really didn't need homophobic PA's ruining his career.

He didn't _actually_ think Dean would go after Alba though. Or make friends with everyone on the set and ignore him completely.

Maybe he didn't get a freebie, maybe this was his punishment. It sure felt like it. It really didn't help that apparently everyone agreed the similarity between them was just uncanny, and even though it was Dean's arm Jessica was currently clinging to, it was him Michael was glaring daggers at.

Dean on the other hand, had yet to look in his direction.

"Jensen!"

"Yeah?"

"Oh my god your friend is amazing!" For the first time in five weeks Jessica was talking to him to do more than bitch. 

Dean was across the room choking down sandwiches, looking not at all sexy, but of course Alba wasn't witnessing _that_. 'Cause she was too busy gushing over him to Jensen. _Great. My life. Is great._

On the up side, when the scene started she was clearly intent on giving the performance of her life and they were done and out of the harness in record time. Jensen was done for the week, and now all he had to do was decide whether to kiss or kill Dean. He knew there was no way Dean could know how his flirting would affect Jessica's acting, which really didn't help explain why he was all over her like that.

Then he turned around and _wow_ this time it was Michael hanging on Dean's arm, Jessica looking at them with a combination of jealousy and confusion.

Much like Jensen himself actually. _What. The. Fuck?_

Michael threw his head back and laughed. A manly interpretation of a schoolgirl's giggle, and Dean looked at his bent neck with something that could be construed as passion. Unless you've actually had sex with him. Then you saw it more as "cougar looking at a gazelle with a biting kink." And that's when all sorts of realizations started dawning in Jensen's mind, and the desire to kill his idiot boyfriend was completely gone.

All during the drive home Dean chatted. About the people he met, the awesome effects he saw in the making, the delicious food, the "fucking awesome acting, dude, you're amazing when you work, your whole face changes, it's a beautiful thing to watch." And not a word on Michael or Jessica, like they didn't exist.

Jensen was giggling on the inside while he half-listened to Dean. Jessica was pissed at Michael. Michael was pissed at her. But they both fucked up on their own side so neither could really complain. And he wouldn't have to look at them for the next four days. Though to be a fly on their bedroom wall tonight might be worth it.

"You're a total slut." _I think I'm falling in love with you._

Dean smiled a wicked smile knowing exactly what he was talking about, before he continued his chatter. Jensen relaxed and leaned his head on Dean's shoulder automatically, then felt the other man stiffen. _Damn it. How long?_ He pulled back abruptly and leaned his forehead on the glass, looking out of the car. He wondered if it would be easier if Dean was just pissed at him all the time, this way he felt like he fucked up anew every time Dean pulled back.

Dean was talking about something but Jensen wasn't listening any more.

He didn't notice they were switching lanes until the car was on gravel and Dean hit the brake with a passion. In the next moment he was pressed against Dean and sharp teeth were scraping his lips painfully. He didn't care about the pain, he shuffled closer, opened his mouth for Dean and held on to strong shoulders.

Kiss changed, from punishment to forgiveness to acceptance. Sliding tongues and exploring fingers, Jensen let happiness take over him. There were words trying to come out of his mouth but he was afraid of what they'd be so he choked them back and tilted his head a bit more. Dean ended the kiss with a small peck on the bruised lips and got back to driving.

This time though, Jensen's cheek was on his shoulder and palm on the inside of his thigh.

\--

Dean didn't like to be touched when he was pissed or hurt. Call it a quirk but he wanted to beat shit up, not cuddle or hold. So he knew he was being unfair to Jensen, but he couldn't just relax and say "the hell with it" until it really _was_ over it.

But when Jensen pulled away from him in the car, his face looked very much how Dean felt, and fuck, he said he would try, right? This torture was doing nobody any good.

Still, the kiss he gave was nothing short of brutal. He felt the skin give under his teeth and tasted copper on his tongue. He was about to move away and pretend it never happened when Jensen, ever trusting, pressed closer instead of pulling away. Let him in instead of shutting him out. _Jesus, Jensen._

The taste was soothing. It reminded him of all the things the anger made him forget. The night they met and Jensen's eyes huge as he waited for Dean to make a move; the all-consuming need Jensen had that he didn't know how to handle, but was learning with Dean; Jensen's head on his shoulder as he looked down at Dean's scars, worried but not judging; Jensen's face in his neck, hiding.

From everyone but him.

_Mine._

The word spread through him with the crushing beauty of a waterfall. He forced himself to ease the kiss even as everything in him screamed to posses. There was time.

**

Jensen was lying on his belly next to him, Dean's fingers drawing lazy patterns on the freckles of his back and shoulders. He had stopped cursing and then begging, Dean looked at the clock, hours ago. Now their breathing and the soft buzz of the vibrator were the only sounds in the room.

Jensen was slick with sweat, shaking, his fists loose over his head, eyes looking at Dean's face. Dean smiled and kissed an invisible trail up Jensen's arm, then pulled the vibrator out slowly, sliding it on the come and lube, feeling Jensen stiffen before he relaxed and let it go. He leaned down and licked up some come that had escaped, off Jensen's balls, then pressed the vibrating toy to the sensitive spot behind them. The only reaction was a change in Jensen's breathing.

"You okay, baby?" Dean slid two fingers inside Jensen and nibbled up the spine.

"Please."

Dean smiled. "Please what?"

"No more. I can't..."

"That's a shame." He heard Jensen let out a cry when he sucked at the already purple mark he left on his neck. "Cause I really, really want you to come one more time."

Jensen's shiver could have been anticipation, but Dean knew at least half of it was fear.

Dean didn't do this often. Only once before in his life actually. And that was after a long hunt with bad results and memories that needed to be destroyed. That was _without_ this burning sensation of possession keeping him hard and making him harder each time again. Without this need to prove his ownership, as much as his belonging, in the only way he knew how.

When they came home, many hours ago, he had fucked Jensen, long and slow and gentle, looking into his eyes and mouthing secret words of adoration. Then Jensen came and... that's when it started. Dean couldn't get enough. He fucked and teased, then licked every part of Jensen's body and fucked some more. Jensen came two more times, last one completely dry.

Later Dean had him share his taste in a kiss, imprinting himself in Jensen, and asked for more. And Jensen gave. Everything Dean had asked for and more. His fingers bit into Dean's shoulders, holding on, eyes wild and staring, as Dean fucked him one more time, fast and shallow, now waiting for Jensen as he came in the warm ass, sliding the dildo in with the next move.

Yeah, Jensen had very little left to give, but watching him try made Dean want to test exactly how little. How long would it take for Jensen to break? _No._ _Just one more time,_ he promised himself, as he laid down the toy and looked at Jensen's red slightly abused hole. He covered it with kisses and longs licks to soothe the skin and turned Jensen on his back.

He was hard again _still?_ and his dick could barely be touched without him hissing in pain.

Dean dipped his tongue, tasting of both of them, in Jensen's mouth. "One more time. I promise."

Jensen nodded.

Dean picked up the vibrator and pressed it gently behind Jensen's balls and started soft lapping at the slit. Jensen came quietly, barely shaking, and Dean kissed the jungle of freckles on his hip gratefully over and over again.

**

He cleaned Jensen up and let him rest, putting on some jeans and stepping out to the balcony to call Sam.

"Hey, man."

"Dean. Three in the morning. Are you dying."

"Almost."

"What's wrong?" Sam’s voice went from dry to worried.

"Nothing."

"Dean."

"Nothing is wrong. We had a fight, we made up, had make up sex, almost killed him by the way... I still rule."

"So didn't need to know that."

"And now I think..." Dean's _I-might-love-him_ hand gestures weren't really useful on the phone.

"You think?"

"..."

"Oh. Oh wow. That's... Wow. Does he know?"

"No! No. I hope not. He's smart though. And... you know, _deep_. He might have known before I did. I don't know."

"And does he..."

"Yeah right. I just said he's smart didn't I."

Sam sighed on the other side.

"Don't even..."

"No, you don't. Why the hell do you think he puts up with your stupid bitch ass? He's a masochist and you're just that good in bed?"

Dean thought of Jensen almost passed out in the bed just a wall away and smirked, but again, the effect was lost to Sam.

"I don't know." He hated that he sounded like he wanted his hand held. And he didn't.

Fortunately his brother knew him well enough. "You're an idiot. Trust me, nobody would watch you eat on a daily basis without a really good reason. Either he lost a bet, or he at least likes you a whole lot. Now let me sleep."

Dean heard a voice behind Sam and then the speaker was covered and Sam mumbled something to someone else. "Sammy! You got a girl there?"

"Shelly. She says you should tell him. I told her you'd rather suck on broken glass. Then she called you an idiot. _I did not!_ True, I added the last part. Still a fact though."

"You're right. You _should_ go back to sleep. Bye Shelly!"

"Shut up."

**

Jensen cracked an eye at him when he came back into the room. "We should change the sheets." His voice was gravel.

"Mhm, go shower, I'll do it."

"Can't move."

Dean laughed and flopped onto bed next to Jensen.

"We okay?"

Jensen's palm was on his cheek, his eyes worried on Dean's and "Yes," was the only possible answer.

"You fixed it."

Dean was puzzled for a moment, then remembered. "Yeah, it plays now."

"Thank you." The kiss was almost chaste, exhausted lips sticky but warm on his.

He helped Jensen to the bathroom and left him to shower while he changed the sheets, than joined him under the hot spray. They washed each other and traded lazy kisses before they collapsed in the bed together, joking about crazy actors and Dean's irresistibility until they fell asleep.

**

_Hey Jen, it's Mac. I just wanted to hear how you're doing, it's been a while. We all miss you. Call me. Bye._

**

"You wanna go visit your parents this weekend?"

"No."

Dean looked at him, surprised. "Why not? Obviously not together but, you haven't seen them in a while if that message's anything to go by. They must miss you. Go see them. I'll spend some tome playing the third wheel to Sam and Shelly."

"Nah. We can go visit Sam if you like, I've kinda promised Chris I'm gonna meet him this weekend if at all possible anyway. I don't wanna go back home now."

"Why? They're your family."

Jensen shrugged and kept on reading his book, feet tucked under Dean's thighs. Dean couldn't imagine having a huge, living, family and not spending every free moment enjoying them.

"Did you call her back?"

"Who?"

"Your sister!"

Jensen finally looked up at him, clearly surprised Dean was this upset over something. Also clearly, not getting _what_. "No, I'll call her later. It's okay, really."

"Um, no, it's not. Call her." He threw the phone at Jensen.

"Dean! Leave it alone! I don't see you running to visit your family all the time."

"That's cause Sam _is_ my family."

Jensen was still now. "What do you mean?"

"Everyone else is pretty much dead."

"I'm sorry."

Dean felt like screaming every time he had to say the words, but shrugged and said them anyway. "It's okay. Point is, you have a big family to enjoy. So do it. While you can."

He knew most people didn't think in terms of: _my whole family could just disappear one day,_ but he did. And he wanted to make sure Jensen never regretted anything as much as he regretted his father's death. He knew he owed every breath, in more ways then one, to the stubborn hard man who didn't know how to raise him, and he'd give anything to be sure his father knows he's happy today, because of him.

"It's not that easy. We don't... I guess we're just not as close as we used to be."

"Why? Is it because you’re gay? Did they do something?"

"No. Nothing like that. It's just..." Jensen sighed and clearly gave up, putting the book on the floor. "When I first moved to LA things were really good. But later they went a bit downhill and, I sort of blamed my parents for things I shouldn't have. Things that weren't their fault. But I was angry and disappointed and I called them on all these things and they didn't even fight me, I guess they figured I was right. I know now it was all bull, but, I don't know how to fix it any more. A lot of time has passed."

He looked so young and lost, Dean just had to reach out and cuff him behind the ear.

Jensen glared at him.

"Just talk to them, man. You "share" with me all the time, no matter how much I cry and beg. They probably _want_ you to do it."

"But then I'd have to drag up all this history again... I dunno."

"Seems to me it's not all that buried anyway."

Jensen laughed, "Awww baby, you're so deep" He crawled on top of sitting Dean and kissed his nose, wrinkled in disgust.

"Deep? Don't insult me asshole."

Jensen laughed louder but then stopped and nodded. "You're right though, I can try. M'gonna call them today. But I still wanna spend this weekend with you and possibly Chris'n'Steve and Sam'n'Shelly."

"Do _Chris'n'Steve_ know you couple them up?" Jensen was doing something with Dean's hair now. He really wished he could see ‘cause the glee on the freckled face was ... scary.

"Yeah, they hate me. But," his fingers were twisting a strand of Dean's hair harshly now, "they call me Jenny, so we hate each other and it works for us." He licked his fingers and continued the hair assault.

Dean was getting worried but decided to play it cool. "You don't appreciate the girly name? That's strange considering your hairdressing tendencies."

Jensen ignored him spectacularly and asked, "Why don't you call me anything but my full name? Is it one of those "emotional distance" things? Like, if you don't familiarize yourself with my name we're not as close or something?"

Dean felt laughter bubble inside him as Jensen stuck the tip of his tongue out still twirling his hair. He put his palms on Jensen's face, made a seriously worried expression and forced Jensen to look at him. "Jensen. Honey. Have you been reading Cosmo again?"

Jensen's face went from concerned to annoyed and he slapped him on the side of the head. "Shut up. I'm serious."

"No, Jensen. I'm not _emotionally avoiding_ you by not calling you a girl’s name."

"Then, what?"

"You're seriously asking me this?" Dean was beyond amused now. On one hand he had Sam. Who bitched about being called Sammy, although, now only when drunk, and on the other there was Jensen, going Oprah on him cause he didn't mutilate his name. "I think I get pretty "familiarized" with your name every time I scream it when I come, what more could you want?"

Jensen and his eyebrow were just looking at him.

The answer was pretty simple actually, but every time he tried to say it all that came out was teasing and sarcasm. He put his hands in the band of Jensen's sweats and thumbed the bony hips. Dean was never as aware of how young Jensen was as when he touched him. The muscles were still barely formed, bones everywhere, skin too soft, and the sounds he was making always slightly surprised, like it was still new, even if Dean _knew_ it wasn't.

Dean's hands traveled up the smooth expanse of Jensen's chest before he realized he took to long to answer and Jensen was biting his lip now, barely looking at Dean. He smiled, he couldn't help it, and kissed the taunt belly. "I like your name."

Words were muffled and interrupted by the kisses he was spreading over Jensen's ribs, but Jensen clearly heard him as he smiled down at Dean and frizzled his hair some more.

Dean suddenly remembered how this conversation started and he threw Jensen back on the couch. "Call. Parents. Now."

"Sex later?"

"Sex later."

"It's technically blackmail."

"I can live with that."

Jensen, still on his back, shirt pulled up to expose one brown nipple and a freckle-fest over one hip, pouted. Dean had to kiss him. The call waited a while longer.

Jensen was nibbling on his thumb while he waited for someone to pick up. In the past two years the calls to his family had broken down to about once a month, and that one was usually tense enough to keep him occupied for the next thirty or so days.

His parents always tried to reach out, but he was stuck in a loop of his own guilt and pride, and couldn't will himself to reach back.

He thought of Sam and Dean's relationship, how close they were, and wondered how he'd feel if his entire family was suddenly reduced to his brother. He couldn't imagine it. For all the forced physical and emotional distance, he knew, if he ever truly needed someone, his whole family would be there for him. He had to make things better.

"Hello."

"Hi mom."

"Jensen!"

His mother always sounded so excited to hear form him. It was kinda funny. Or... sad.

"How are you honey?"

"I'm okay, ma, I wanted... I have to tell you something. It's long overdue I guess but..."

"Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. Yes. Sort of. Look. I need to tell you … These past couple of years, you know I’ve been…”

“Avoiding us.”

 _Ouch._ “Yeah, I guess. The thing is… I said some things I shouldn’t have. I know it. And I wasn’t sure you could forgive me. Or I could forgive myself.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Jensen.”

“Yes. Yes there is. I called you a…” _Pimp._ “well, you know. I had no right to. I can be less than happy about some things that happened when I was a kid, but, when I left, the roles I took and the life I lead, those were my choices. I shouldn't have blamed you for them. Or dad. You _did_ give me a choice. I was just... disappointed and needed to blame someone other than myself. It was easier and I was a chicken. But, it wasn't your fault, and I'm sorry for saying it was."

"Oh Jensen. I'd love to say that's true but a lot of it _was_ our fault. I pushed you, we both know that, and I'm sorry you were unhappy. But baby, I was always proud of the choices you made, and the man you've become. We both still are."

Jensen swallowed. It was surreal to hear that, after all this time of practically avoiding them, they were still proud of him. Nothing brought him down to earth like the voice of his mother. "Thank you, mama."

"Thank _you_ honey. I'm glad you called, and told me this. We... We really miss you."

"I know. I miss you too. I'm gonna come next weekend, okay? I... I'd like you to meet someone."

"We'd love to see you, Jensen. And sure, bring them along. Um..."

"It's a man."

His mother sighed.

His closest family, mom, dad, brother and sister, knew he was gay, and most of them had no problem with it. Of course, _most of them_ never met any of his boyfriends. Only his brother had a "check" on both accounts. And, man, Dean was awesome, but the clash of those two will be epic. Another problem was, while the rest of the family knew Josh had some sort of a problem with it, they didn't know exactly _what_ the problem was. That was a choice they both made.

"Josh's gonna be there?"

"Yes. I'll talk to him, prepare him. See if we can't find someone to get him drunk the night before." There was laughter in her voice now and Jensen couldn't help but join in.

They spent twenty more minutes chatting and joking and trying not to catch up too much so they could do it when they see each other.

It was amazing how quickly everything was back to the way it should be. _Love and understanding. Mother._

When they were done talking, Jensen leaned back on the couch and realized how easily it was all solved once he just opened his mouth and said what had to be said. _You suck, Jensen._

He went to the bedroom and kissed Dean's nape to wake him up.

"Why didn't I do this sooner? It was so simple. I have no problem telling _you_ everything I feel."

But even as Dean shrugged, Jensen figured out the answer. It was easy to be emotional around Dean. Like a bishop discussing the Bible with a 6 year old. You can't lose. For some reason it was much harder to open up to someone who would express back the same amount of their own feelings.

With Dean, being emotional with him _was_ about love, but also about superiority. Which was a thought that hurt, but couldn't be denied.

He nuzzled closer to Dean's neck. He didn't think _"I'm sorry I shovel all my emotions on you to show how much better adjusted I am"_ would be all that well accepted by Dean. So he kissed down the muscled back and listened to Dean's murmurs instead.

It was a silent apology; Dean would appreciate it more anyway.

**

"Jen! JenJenJenJenJenJenJen!"

"So drunk so soon?"

"Jen!"

"We've established that. Chris? Get him off me please."

Steve was hanging around his neck now and Jensen was supporting him lightly until a hand came from the back and removed Steve unceremoniously out of the touching zone.

Chris smirked at Dean before he took Steve off his hands and Jensen saw the "friendship" established over serious ownership and possessiveness issues will continue. He sighed. It was nice that his boyfriend and his best friend got along. It would have been even nicer if they weren't both sociopaths. _And what does that say about me really??_

"Samhey! All on your lonesome tonight? Where's your pretty lady?"

"Studying. Someone's gotta support the family." Sam's smile was blinding and for a moment Jensen remembered exactly why he tried to hit on the man the first time he saw him. Steve flung his arms around Sam and it was only slightly awkward considering Sam could probably put the blonde man in his pocket and carry him around.

Chris just yawned as he dislodged Steve again and sat him in a chair. "Beers and tequila and keep'em comin’!"

As far as men's nights out went it was pretty tame. Mostly because Steve and Jensen were cuddly drunks and Dean and Sam were reasonable about their drinking as always, which left only Chris to stir shit up. But, he was slightly intimidated by, and had a bit of a mancrush on, Sam, so he sat politely most of the night, only making two people want to punch his teeth out, and in both cases he pointed Sam out to them and they changed their minds.

Jensen's hand kept going up the inseam of Dean's pants, and Dean kept putting it down to his knee. Jensen figured if Dean wanted him to stop, he would have removed his hand from his leg completely so he just went up again. Around the tenth time this happened Dean entwined their fingers together and pressed Jensen's hand to his dick so Jensen could feel how hard he was. Jensen was the one who moaned at the touch.

"Can I jerk you off?"

"Not here."

Jensen pouted a bit. "But..."

"When we come home, okay? There's people here. Bar, you know? It's why you're drunk?"

Jensen felt lips in his hair and smiled at the touch and the phrasing. "Home?"

Dean stiffened up. "I didn't mean..."

"No." Jensen interrupted. "I like it." Chris was making faces at them and Jensen threw a wet napkin at him and the banter continued. He didn't even realize Dean didn’t relax again.

Dean was standing behind him as he fished for his keys. It was some hour after midnight and the street was totally quiet. The only thing Jensen heard was Dean's breath in his ear. _A-ha_! He finally pulled the keys out of his pocked and started the process of getting it into the keyhole. _Any minute now._

When the door opened he turned to Dean with a victorious smile. "I'm the king."

Dean smiled but it didn't really reach his eyes.

"Whassamatter?"

"I'm gonna go sleep home tonight."

Jensen frowned in confusion. "We are home."

"No Jensen, my home, with Sam."

"But... you said... Why?" Jensen knew he was too drunk to understand any explanation Dean might give him. Too drunk to understand anything, other than that Dean needed to stay with him, at all.

"I just want to, ok?" Dean turned and left and Jensen stood on the door frozen.

\--

Dean ignored the thoughts his brain was screaming at him. After the first half an hour of answering his own questions with _I don't know_ it really lost its appeal.

He was shoving his head in the pillow now, trying to force it to shut up and let him sleep.

No, he didn't know why he left. Or why he freaked in the bar. Yes, he does know it's just a phrase and not a wedding band thank you very much. _I'm not an idiot._ He started thinking about burning graves to silence the _really?_ his smartass brain was aiming at him again.

He decided to pretend he was asleep and just ignore everything that was going on inside him.

You don't just get a home with some guy you don't even know dammit! _No. Just. No. Enough._ The brain shut up and he fell into a restless sleep.

He was awoken by sounds of silent cursing and someone walking into his door. His hand was reaching for the knife as the door opened and then he almost poked his eye out when Jensen stumbled in. The door closed with a bang when Jensen saw he was awake and the pissy, still slightly drunk expression on Jensen's face was adorable. Dean tried to squish the need to pick him up, wrap him into blankets and keep him forever.

"Fuck you, you fucking asshole. You don't walk away from me like I'm some hooker you paid to go out with. Move over."

Dean didn't know what to say so he did as he was told and moved to one side of the bed. Jensen just dropped most of his clothes and climbed in the bed, turning his back to Dean, punching the pillow to make it softer and... falling asleep.

Even the ever active brain was stuck on "Wha...?" _There. See what he does? Do you SEE now? So don't you tell me how to handle it._

He punched his own pillow and put his head down, eyes on Jensen's neck and nape and the smell of Jensen surrounding him.

He woke up late in the morning, the first thing in his sight as he opened his eyes, Jensen. Fist curled loosely by his face, turned towards Dean and relaxed in sleep like Dean only wished he could be. He stared at the mesmerizing freckles, counting them and naming them, wanting to kiss them instead, for long minutes. He breathed over the delicate hairs on Jensen's arm and watched them move until he was almost hypnotized by the soft movements.

"Morning, asshole." Jensen's eyes were burrowing into his and he knew he should muster up energy to be angry or insulted or something, but all he could do was stare at the beautiful enraged eyes. He wondered, vaguely, if Jensen tried to kill him, would he just stare and let it happen.

"Care to tell me what the hell happened last night?"

"Not really." His words were weak and Jensen just rolled eyes at him.

"Dean..."

"Look, I just wanted some privacy. Maybe I don't want to spend every waking moment with you." Ahh, there it was, the righteous anger. Dean almost smiled at the victory of finding it, but it was kinda spoiled by the silent whisper from the back of the head - _and maybe I do._

Jensen wasn't impressed either. "So, you want me to leave huh? Right now. Just get up and go?" The bastard didn't even bother raising the eyebrow to help the cynicism flooding his words.

To be honest, neither of them really moved at all. They were still in the same positions they woke up in, and it was hard to have a fight when they were still warm from sleep and slightly bent toward each other due to their traitorous bodies trying to get together while they slept, totally ignoring the huge _issue_ right there in front of them.

Jensen's face sort of fell though, even as his fingers stretched towards Dean's, making Dean ache for the familiar touch. "Dean, I can chase you, I can, anywhere, and I don't mind making a fool of myself when you get scared, if that's what it takes. But... I don't know if that's it, or if you really don't want me near you. So... so if you want me to go, really want it, say it. I'll leave and you won't see me again. But if you're just scared of the whole relationship thing, then, just let me be the idiot and wait with you till you get over it."

Jensen was looking at the sheet that separated their fingers.

Dean wanted to say he's not scared. He wanted to say "I want you to go." But both of those would have been a lie so he said nothing. It was enough for Jensen. Fingers extended and touched his. _Jensen._

Jensen stayed with him whole day.

He dug up one of Sam's books and sat quietly and read it while Dean had a tiny panic attack on the bed, that is to say lay there looking at the ceiling pretending he's about to drift to sleep any minute now.

He ate his lunch alone when Dean locked himself in the bathroom and took a really long shower and made a list of ten reasons why he should throw Jensen out.

He sat and listened while Dean numbered those reasons to him, then kissed Dean on the forehead and kept on reading the book. Sam didn't comment, just made a sandwich and left after a few minutes of observing the utter insanity unfolding around him.

When the night came Dean sat on the couch next to Jensen, sighed deeply and lay down placing his head in Jensen's lap. He watched TV as Jensen scratched his head lightly still reading the book.

They left for Jensen's place around midnight when Sam announced he wants alone time with his girl and Dean teased until Jensen dragged him out.

"You owe me sex."

"I know."

But when they hit the bed Jensen curled into him, back to chest, and Dean held him knowing he had a full day's worth of bullshit to atone for. The position though couldn't help but make him wonder about the power shifts in their relationship. Shouldn't at least one of them be a chick? _Jensen clearly._

Instead, they were always shifting the power around, little spoon versus the big spoon, neurotic one versus the patient one. Technically, so far he was the one who always topped, but it didn't always feel like it, and that was only a fact because Jensen was postponing it for some reason.

Dean kissed Jensen's shoulder and decided it was probably for the best. Not the sex thing, the power switch thing. They were both messed up in their own way. As long as they freaked out at different times, they could make this relationship work. He shivered thinking what would happened if they ever did it at the same time. The universe would implode.

"We control the space time continuum!"

"Sleep."

So he did.

**

_I found a hunt._ _New York_ _. Probably poltergeist. You want?_

**

Dean actually had to say goodbye to Jensen before he left this time, and that was about hundred times more awkward than he thought it would be. The kiss scorched his lips though and he felt it burn every evening he'd wake up to go scout the house.

They talked every day, messages and short calls, jokes and sexual innuendos. Jensen didn't ask any questions and Dean was grateful. He knew, one day soon he'd have to explain what he really did, but he remembered Cassie, and he also knew that would be the last time he saw Jensen, unless he had proof. And how could he get proof for _this_ without endangering Jensen? He couldn't. But maybe Sammy could.

Yeah. Sam could make Jensen believe. Somehow. Dean held on hope.

**

He came to Vancouver only slightly battered and bruised.

Jensen was already asleep and he sneaked in and took a shower before Jensen even noticed someone was in the flat.

"I should take advantage of you now."

Jensen rubbed his ass against Dean's cock slowly. "You really should."

Dean was getting harder with each second, Jensen's warm skin under his lips, the smell intoxicating.

"I missed you."

Dean smiled. "Of course." _I missed you too._

His lips and teeth started the blinding seduction on Jensen's back, kisses, bites and licks over the sensitive muscles making Jensen squirm and gasp until he was fully awake and begging for more.

Dean slipped into the tight ass easily on lube and a quick prep and only after he was sheathed all the way in did he lean in and kiss the pouty lips Jensen had bitten raw as always.

His hips started moving and Jensen's replied. There was no awkwardness or questions, just the two of them, together, and Dean thought he maybe understood what “home” meant.

When he came it was devoid of the desperation that always followed a hunt, just soft moans of Jensen's name and lips sucking up the sweat from Jensen's neck.

He cleaned them up and Jensen laid his head on his chest. Dean knew Jensen had sappy words just waiting to come out but surprisingly, neither of them said anything as sleep overtook them.

**

Then came the day the whole world sort of paused.

Dean didn't watch the news or call his friends to talk about it. He sat on the bed wondering if anything he fought against and called "evil" could ever cause this much destruction.

Jensen came back from work early, animated and upset, talking and shaking and waving his hands, calling family and friends.

Dean got a message from Sam.

Two days passed in confusion and numbness before Jensen packed his things and said he was going home, he needed to see his family.

"I need a few days. To see them and talk to them. Then... I'd like you to come. Meet them. Please?"

Jensen's eyes were huge and scared and not really focused on Dean or the answer, and Dean knew if he said "no" Jensen couldn't even begin to handle it right now. So he said "yes" instead and decided to handle that one himself.

He met Sam in LA and they got drunk together. Really drunk, not the careful, trained drinking they did most of the time. They were both in the similar frame of mind. Ghosts and demons and all kinds of monsters, they did what they did cause they didn't know better. People... people were evil.

It was the mantra of the night and they shouted it through the empty streets in the early morning as they stumbled back home, reeking of beer and whiskey and smoke.  


\--

"No cows?"

Jensen smiled and a bit of the tension seeped away. "Neighbors have sheep; we're fighting them for land."

Dean's smile was... creepy. Clearly all his muscles were out of order.

"Ok, don't do that. Come here." He walked up to Dean and gave him a quick tight hug. Not enough for neighbors to start poking their noses out, but enough to tell Dean he's with him.

"Dude! They'll see us."

"Of course they will." Dean looked like Jensen had gone completely mad. "Just breathe, it's ok, they don't hate you."

"Yet."

Jensen smiled. "Never."

He didn’t know why Dean had agreed to come there without a struggle. He was sure it would take time and patience, but Dean had just said, “yes,” and didn’t go back on it even when the poorly covered panic grabbed hold of him. 

Jensen had spent three days with his family. It was both easier and harder than he'd hoped it would be. They were happy to see him, his mother was thrilled the awkwardness was gone and they could finally talk like before. It was easy to slip into being a part of the family again, even if there were subtle reminders all over of the things he'd missed in the two years he distanced himself from them.

But time was also spent calling family members and friends, finding out if they are all well, constantly switching between expectation, fear and happiness, they were all drained.

Every other free moment, he spent easing them into the idea of his boyfriend spending a few days with them.

His mother wanted to know how he felt and if they were happy together, his father wanted to know how long they were together and any secrets Dean might have had - of course, his job was re-named into "government-work" as Jensen figured "secret" can cover a lot of things - Mac wanted to know if he was hot, and Josh wanted to know if he could set him on fire.

It balanced out nicely, Jensen thought.

He wanted to take Dean's hand but didn't think the first thing his parents see should be Dean punching him, so he poked him in the shoulder instead and pushed him towards the door.

"Yeah, right. Lead the way pretty boy, I'm not gonna stand in line of fire."

"Chicken."

"Smart."

When Jensen opened the door he wanted to stop and bang his head on the wall. They were all there, lined up like little soldiers, standing and waiting. And only Mac and his mom were smiling.

That is, until all four of them got identical look of shock and their eyes started switching from Jensen to Dean and back again.

"Guys, this is Dean."

"Wow." Mac was the first to speak. "You two are identical."

Her mother shot her a look and smiled at Dean with a bit of awkward. "Sorry but, you really are very similar."

Jensen knew Dean was nervous and knew what that meant Dean wanted to do, but was stopping himself for the sake of being fearless and cool. Jensen couldn't help it. He reached out and scratched the back of Dean's neck for him.

Dean turned to him with horror etched on his face, then bit into his lip to keep from laughing. He shook his head at Jensen, they smiled at each other and Jensen finally felt him relax a margin.

"Yeah, I know, my brother was the one who first saw Jensen and freaked out a bit."

Jensen fidgeted thinking of that night. Remembering random one night stands in bars was not something he wanted to do in front of his parents.

"Oh, we've all lost our manners. I'm Donna, and please, call me Donna. I'm not ready to be my mother in law yet."

Jensen watched his father scowl at her before sticking his tongue out like a six year old. _Great. This is going so well._

"The youngest of my children here is Alan. He looks older but you'll learn it's just an illusion."

Alan rolled his eyes and shook Dean's hand. "I'm Jensen's father." was all he said, as if it was unclear, but he managed to crack a smile and Jensen was almost proud at him for it.

"Baby of the family is Mac here, and this is Josh."

Jensen wanted this moment in slow motion. Josh and Dean shook hands. For all he was worried about Dean, it was Josh who started regretting the "who used his right hand the most" competition. _There’s a thought._

__

After a while though Jensen didn't need it in slow motion cause it was taking so long he was worried they'll have to take someone to hospital by the time it's done.

"Well. When you're finished we'll be in the living room." Jensen's mother was the one he got the sarcasm from after all. "Jensen, why don't you take his things up to your room?"

Josh suddenly let go of Dean's hand and glared at Jensen.

_Yes big brother, sex is to be had here._

__

Josh nodded in a way that clearly said "we'll talk about this later."

"Nice to meet you all." Dean followed him up the stairs and Jensen thought he felt something brush his ass. _He wouldn't!_

When the door to his room closed there was a moment of silence and Jensen wanted to ask Dean what he thought about his family, his house and him in it and thank him for being there and beg him not to leave even if they freaked him out.

Then Dean turned around and kissed him hungrily with tongue and teeth while his fingers played on Jensen's neck.

"I missed you." Dean whispered in his mouth and Jensen smiled like a crazy person.

"Of course."

Dean released a puff of laughter into his neck and pulled him in a crushing hug.

"You ok?"

"Yeah."

Jensen knew that wasn't really true but as long as Dean wasn't running away he was happy.

Dean's neck was sweaty under his fingers and he leaned in to lick it away when a bang on the door startled him.

"Jensen! Ma needs you in the kitchen!"

 _Liar._ "Fine!"

He smiled at Dean and gave him another kiss before he pushed him to the bathroom. "Go shower, you're sticky."

"I'm manly!" Dean pouted.

"Oh yeah, you and the hobos."

Dean turned and took his shirt off. Jensen drooled a bit at the sight of the muscles on his back. He groaned before he could stop himself and Dean looked back at him over his shoulder, clearly knowing exactly what the sight did to him, as he unbuttoned his jeans and let them slide half way down the perfect ass, then disappeared behind closed doors.

 _Damn._ "I hate you."

Dean's chuckle made him smile. Before the banging on the door started again.

He yanked it open with force, "What, Josh? What does _ma_ want?"

"How old is he?"

"Fuck you."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. What, you're doing it again? Once didn't teach you anything?"

"Man, you can't compare that! I was fifteen, I'm twenty three now, he's almost thirty, it's not exactly the same."

They were whisper-shouting and Jensen kept glancing back to the bathroom. It was getting annoying so he pushed Josh away and they stepped into the other room to argue in normal voices instead.

"It's not the same for fuck sakes Josh, he's barely seven years older than me, and I'm not a confused teenager any more."

Josh clenched his jaw and Jensen put his hand on his shoulder.

"He's not like that. I'll never forget what you did for me then but... this is different, you know it is."

"I just wish you'd like girls, girls I can tease you about and not worry what they'll do to you."

"Wow mom should hear you now. And he's not gonna do anything to me. He's a nice guy. Chris doesn't want to kill him." He grinned.

"Oh, well that's ok then, your psycho friend likes him, he must be awesome!"

Jensen laughed and leaned in a bit more. "Just give him a chance ok?"

"Yeah, yeah. You're not a kid any more, so everyone keeps telling me, I have to let you spread your wings, little birdie."

Jensen kicked his brother playfully and by the time their mother came to split them up Dean was standing at the door laughing at them.

"You're so not my hero." Jensen was limping with Dean to the kitchen, Josh behind them, trying to figure out how much hair he lost in the struggle.

"Neither of you looks like they could seriously hurt the other," Dean smirked.

Jensen and Josh hit him in the shoulder together.

After a few hours it seemed Dean was a little bit in love with his mother. And the feeling was mutual. She talked to him affectionately and smiled at him and he smiled back with feelings Jensen never saw before, scattered on his face.

She asked him about his parents and when he told her he lost his mother when he was four she placed a palm to his cheek and told him she's sorry and his eyes were wide opened staring at her, accepting it like he never accepted other people's sympathy.

Jensen shuffled a bit closer to show him he was there and Dean nuzzled behind his ear lovingly.

His mother gave Dean cookies and watched him swallow them down with love in her eyes and Jensen wasn't sure any more if he was jealous of his mother of Dean.

Towards his father Dean was pure respect. Jensen was Texas born and raised and he knew all about respecting his elders but it was not something he expected of Dean. And even though the distance in that relationship was as clear as the love between Dean and his mother, neither man seemed to mind it. It was just as it should be.

Jensen wasn't sure what exactly he expected, but some kind of tension and misunderstanding was definitely involved in the picture he had.

Mac seemed to be fine with anything as long as she got her own share of attention.

Jensen would have rolled eyes at the perfection of the scene if not for the fact he actually wanted Dean to get along with his parents, and the storming looks that came from Josh.

Jensen saw him try to be more accepting, and saw him fail, over and over again. He knew Dean noticed and he'd have to tell him what was going on before he pegged Josh for a homophobe and left it at that.

\--

Dean was stretched taunt. He didn't know how to do family. He wanted one for so long and now he was surrounded with all these people, not his family, Jensen's, who seemed to accept him in their own way, and he missed Sam like crazy. Sam smelled like family. Sam knew him. What was he doing there?

Jensen moved next to him and Dean looked over, saw his happy smile and wanted to run away. Instead he smiled and nodded when asked something and answered politely when he wanted to shout at them to leave him the hell alone.

It was few hours later, lunch long passed and desperation clawing on Dean's heart, that Jensen noticed something was wrong. He looked confused but Dean couldn't say anything and he couldn't hide from Jensen any more either so he just shrugged and went on like he did before, only this time knowing Jensen was watching him act, knowing that was what he was doing, and it was so much harder, to balance the act with the apology he was trying to send to Jensen.

He wanted this to not be a fight, for Jensen to just understand without asking for reasons. He wondered if he could get it. Jensen always surprised him when he expected the worst, he could hope for better once, right?

"Hey ma, I'm sorry to break up your great love here but I'd like to take my boyfriend around the town if that's ok?" Jensen's mom blushed before she smiled at Dean and told him she was sorry for taking up their time. He shook his head and smiled back at her.

She really was nice. He wondered if his mother would have been funny and charming like her.

He wondered if his father would have accepted Jensen. Probably not.

Jensen had them out of the house with keys to the Impala in Dean's hand in no time. The second they were out of the view Dean's shoulders slouched.

"Turn left here."

Jensen wasn't touching him at all and Dean wondered if he should apologize, and what for exactly. It took him a while to realize Jensen was leading them away from the city, into fields and back roads.

"Stop here, we'll walk."

He obeyed because he didn't know what else to do or say.

They came to the river and sat on the grass, hidden from one side by the trees and rocks. River swerved around huge rocks and fell over smaller ones in bubbly cascades. Jensen took his shoes off and stuck his feet in the freezing water. He lay back and looked at Dean expecting for him to do the same.

Water was indeed freezing.

But Jensen was warm and Dean moved so his arm was touching Jensen's down the whole length. It made it better.

"This is my grandma's land. It'd been a while since anyone's actually been here, or taken care of it, but I used to spend a lot of summers here."

Dean had yet to say a word. Jensen turned and perched over him. His hand touched Dean's face and Jensen followed every move with his eyes. From the forehead down the cheek and to his lips, Jensen's fingers trailed an invisible path.

His smile was a bit sad before he spoke. "You can leave if you want to."

No. No. He shook his head but Jensen's lips stopped him with a quick kiss.

"I saw you. I thought you were good at first, I'm sorry I didn't realize. I knew it wouldn't be easy but then it was and I wanted it to be real. I understand. I want you to stay, I want to show you where I grew up and who I grew up with, I want you to meet my grandma, even if just as my friend, I want to make out with you by the river and have silent immobile sex in my tiny bed so Josh can have a heart attack when he walks in on us in the morning. But I want you to want it too. I won't mind if you go. I'll miss you, but I'll see you again in a few days, and it will be ok. Honest."

Yeah, Dean suddenly remembered why he was here and doing this.

His fingers laced in Jensen's hair and he pulled him in. This was Jensen, slightly neurotic and over-caffeinated yet forever sleepy, with a happy grin that made Dean yearn for a life in which he could have smiled like that.

Dean didn't kiss him exactly, he just mouthed full lips until Jensen tried to take over the kiss but Dean shifted out of the way and turned their positions in one trained move.

His lips were feather light on Jensen's and he smiled when he felt a lick of tongue trying to invite him in. He moved the soft touch up Jensen's cheek and across the lashes when green eyes closed.

Jensen's parents were good people. They just reminded him of what he couldn't have. And, it's been a while since he had to make an effort for someone to like him, other than for sex and info.

 _Though technically_ , he licked a quick stripe over Jensen's lips watching him strain for more, _he was doing this for sex_.

But he probably shouldn't flirt with Jensen's father.

"It'll be ok. This helped. I needed to get away for a while." _I needed to remember you're mine._

Jensen looked at him, torn between caring about his words and just snatching him down for a proper kiss.

Dean blew a wet breath behind Jensen's ear and took the choice away from him. He rubbed their dicks together, languid motions, Jensen mumbling into his shoulder.

Dean laughed silently. "What do you always talk about when I play with you, baby?"

Jensen blushed and turned his face away and now Dean really was intrigued.

Easy bites on Jensen's neck, leaving no marks, zippers rubbing and catching together. He wanted to hear the words, make Jensen forget his question and let them out again so Dean could decipher them. If there was one thing he knew by now it was how to melt Jensen down.

He left their clothes on, even when Jensen wanted to pull them off. He bit at Jensen's belly and left wet marks, sucked on the hard nipples through rough cloth, watching Jensen bite his lip to stop the almost-words Dean wanted to hear.

But Dean kept playing, touching through the clothes and never giving so much Jensen would go past the “slightly lost” point, keeping him interested but not satisfied. Whispers came, soft puffs of air, Dean ignored them at first, not letting himself get caught listening, but as minutes passed whispers turned into groans, half bitten words, long pleads. Dean didn’t think Jensen knew what he was saying, which made it all the better, maybe more honest. They made him smile, then worry and finally wonder.

He stored the words for later, held Jensen while they came, and rested under the September sun with Jensen’s cheek on his shoulder.

He would think about them another time. When he figured out if they were just passion or truth.

**

Later in the car Jensen turned to him. "Before we get home I have to tell you something about Josh."

Dean snorted.

"No, I know what you think but it's not that. I should have told you before you came but I was hoping he'd manage to get over it."

Dean threw a quick glance at him and saw he was fidgeting and not really looking back. "Ok?"

"When I was fifteen I sort of dated I guess, an older guy. A really older guy. And Josh found out. He figured out the guy was basically using me, but I didn't want to hear about it. He found the guy and threatened him to leave me alone and the guy... well, he had some stuff on me, and he tried blackmailing us, but Josh didn't let him. He was barely twenty himself but really scary when he needed to be. By the time it was all over I knew Josh was right and we were good, but he was never ok with me dating guys again. No matter who or what they were."

Wow, Dean thought, could there be more holes in that story? He looked at Jensen confused. “Did he…” Dean waved one hand around not really knowing what he was trying to ask but feeling rage burn at the pit of his stomach. “I mean, the guy, he didn’t…” _You know what, can I just have his address now and kill him and later you can tell me all about it. Please._

__

“No. Nothing like that. I just… expected too much and he turned out to be a bastard.”

__

Dean nodded, not exactly happy but willing to let it go for now. Mostly. "You know I have way more questions, right?" __

Jensen sighed and nodded. "Yeah, but, some other time ok? We're gonna be at the house any minute now and it's not a few minutes conversation. I just wanted you to know Josh isn't an asshole without reason."

"Yeah, good."

Dean placed his palm on Jensen's thigh. He knew it was pointless to ask Jensen if he was all right. It had been eight years and the answer was clear in Jensen's open kisses and occasional reluctant touches. Life can't be taken apart and put together again with all the broken pieces replaced by nice, shiny, new ones. Jensen, just like Dean, worked with what he had. Nothing was perfect and whole.

**

It was later that same night, just the three of them in the living room, with the incredibly stupid horror on, that Dean turned to Josh and for the first time saw the other man giving him a strange, not completely un-friendly look. He frowned and looked back at TV but wondered what it was about.

A few minutes later, when Jensen dragged a lazy hand through his hair he figured it out.

Jensen was sprawled on the couch, cushion under his head and almost asleep, and Dean was between his legs, curled and practically cuddling.

Dean knew, in theory, that this position took all his butch-points. But he loved it. His little pillow always vibrated with a happy, restless kind of energy, always warm, always accepting. Wrapped in a Jensen cocoon Dean could relax, breathe, let go. It felt almost safe, if Dean would ever dare say the word. And there was no manliness he would give that feeling up for.

He burrowed his face deeper into Jensen's chest and stifled his laugher as the blonde on the screen ran up to the room, like they always did, cause clearly, no monster would follow her there.

He felt Jensen shake with laughter under him too and looked up questioningly.

"Will you stop mocking dying people please?"

"No! And don’t even tell me it’s scripted, Alec would never do something this stupid!"

"Alec is _imaginary_ , he does what ever the writers tell him to. And the show hasn't even aired yet."

 _Oh, that._ Dean shrugged and Jensen looked at him suspiciously but didn't say anything in front of his brother.

_Well it's not like he was poking. The scripts were just lying there. He was cleaning up actually, and he picked them up, and if happened to see something that really wasn't his fault. At all._

Jensen's amused smile told him he was on to him but Dean was an awesome ignorer and the blonde was currently dying a gory death.

He waited until he was sure Jensen's eyes were closed again and he was close to dozing off before he looked up at Josh again. The man was clearly intent on not seeing a single scene in the movie. His eyes were glued to Dean and Jensen and the way Jensen's hand was wrapped loosely around Dean's, holding it close to his body.

He tried to imagine what Josh saw, did it look like he was pinning Jensen down or that Jensen was holding him, did it look like Dean would move his hand if Jensen wasn't holding it, or just that Jensen wanted even more contact, did Jensen seem sleepy or bored?

He knew the answers, never doubted them for a second, but he wanted to know how other people saw them. How Josh, who'd hate to see his brother be considered as weaker in a relationship, saw them.

"Sleepy."

"Yeah?"

Jensen nodded and Dean sat up, pulled Jensen after him. "Let's go."

Jensen was burrowed in his neck, not caring where Dean was taking him, just moving his legs when he had to. Dean said a polite "good night" to Josh and the other man nodded, still watching like they were the main attraction in a circus.

Jensen fell on the bed and tried to pull Dean with him but ended up just stretching his shirt. "Hey! Come here."

Dean just bent down and started undoing Jensen's belt.

"Ohh. Sex. Yeah, ok."

Dean burst out laughing before he remembered they weren't alone in the house. He kissed Jensen's pout away. "You can't sleep in your jeans. No sex with your parents a wall away."

When Jensen was in his boxers and cuddled to his front, Dean nuzzled his neck and kissed him to sleep. Then he started brainstorming and sadly fell asleep before he got to any quality conclusions.

_Need want please love love more need you Dean Dean love love you please Dean_

Dean woke up gasping for air like after a nightmare. Jensen was a warm presence along his body and his words still echoed in Dean's ears.

Dream Jensen mumbled the same words, in the same adorable way the real Jensen did, he arched and twisted under a lover's body just like real Jensen did. But the man causing those reactions wasn't Dean. It was some faceless stranger, holding Jensen pinned with huge hands, never touching the right places, Jensen responding anyway.

Jealousy still burned in Dean when he held Jensen closer, tighter.

"You ok?" The sleepy voice was completely unaware of Dean's turmoil.

"Yeah, just a bad dream."

Jensen, more than half asleep, turned to Dean and rubbed his face in Dean's neck. Like Dean was the one getting comfort from Jensen hiding there.

Except maybe he was, because his body relaxed and his brain finally understood it was just a dream and when Jensen's sleepy weight fell on his arm he just shuffled a bit to ease the pressure before he shoved his own face in the ridiculous floppy hair tickling his nose.

\--

Dean still wasn't hundred percent comfortable, he might never be, around his family, but Jensen watched him more carefully now. Made sure to conveniently "need his help" whenever things got too charged, gave Dean time to breathe by talking more and not allowing people to suffocate him with questions. If Dean noticed, he didn't seem to mind.

They spent the morning driving around and actually seeing all the places Jensen wanted to show Dean. His old high school and the place where he had his first fight, the house where the first girl who kissed him lived and the bush he jumped into when her father caught them, the church where he messed around with the pastor’s son for a few months before he left for LA.

They took a walk through Breckinridge Park and Jensen talked about growing up in Texas and coming out to his family and why he wanted to leave despite them being ok with it.

Dean listened and seemed to understand. Every now and then Jensen wanted to stop and kiss him but he’d remember not to and just keep going, until they realized most of the day had gone by and rushed home for dinner.

Josh's eyes were now following Dean all the time, like he was trying to crack a puzzle.

"What are you doing?" Jensen asked when he finally managed to get a minute alone with his brother.

"Nothing?"

"Why are you stalking him? You wanna hold his hand?"

Josh looked at him like he was insane and Jensen realized Dean had brushed off on him in more ways than one.

"You still don't trust him? That's ok. But, man, don't creep him out, just..."

"It's not that."

Jensen raised his brow to ask what exactly it was then.

"He's what... seven years older than you?"

Jensen sighed, _running in circles_.

"Yes, Josh, he..."

"Just... He seems ok."

 _Huh?_ "Huh?"

Josh, the bastard, smiled. "Seems. I could still pull a 180, but right now, I'm gonna ask you both to come out tonight, have some beers, shoot some pool, get him drunk and find out all his secrets."

"You're a wonderful human being, oh brother of mine."

"I do what little I can."

"That, you do."

And apparently "pool" was the magic word in Dean's dictionary cause he nodded, like a child after a puppy, when asked if he wanted to go out and play some.

They met up with Tom and Pete, friends from before-high-school days, and ended up in a local hole full of smoke, smell of stale beer and men who washed for Christmas.

Jensen usually loved that scene. It was so easy to get lost there; nobody knew him, except people who knew him as the "Ackles' kid, Alan's boy".

But this time, Jensen had to keep reminding himself they were in Texas. In his home town. There were things a man just didn't do there. Groping his boyfriend in public was one of them. So he took it easy on the beers but his friends were pushing the tequila and taunting. And another thing a man in Texas didn't do was back down on a dare.

Dean seemed to have complete control of how much he drank and how it affected him though. He wasn't influenced by the calls to drink more, and he didn't do anything stupid because of the alcohol. Jensen wished he had that kind of self control. But the booze was flowing in his bloodstream, making him want to touch, lean over, snuggle. Fortunately, in a way, when he tried to do it, Dean was no longer with him and he just fell on the bench.

"Where...?"

Josh pointed at the pool tables and Jensen looked over.

Dean looked... unfamiliar. His back was straight and his smirk cocky. The man he was talking to weighed twice as much as Dean, and yet Dean was holding the smirk and pointing at the table, almost like he was equally bored and amused by the whole situation.

He looked at Josh, confused, but his brother just shrugged. Jensen was sobering up quickly. Dean and his new friend had started a game.

Within a few minutes Jensen had to get up to be able to see what was going on because a circle of men rounded the table, blocking his view. The game hadn't even started out slow, Dean was apparently a great player, and didn’t mind anyone knowing. He called for practically impossible shots, and when he did them, and he did do them, there was no luck involved. It was pure skill, power and precision.

Jensen was getting seriously turned on by this aloof, invincible stranger. This was Dean topping. Knowing every quirk and anticipating every move without actually thinking about it. It was perfection and Jensen wanted to feel Dean play him like that right the fuck now.

Dean never lost the cocky smirk, never tried to hide how much he loved this, he just finished the game, thanked the man for losing and waved the money at Jensen before tucking it in his pocket. "More tequila, lightweight?"

A blur of motion behind Dean had Jensen shouting "Look out!" and stepping forward, but Dean was already turning.

One hand gripped the wrist of the large arm that was flying at his face and twisted it behind the man’s back, the other one pushed him against the wall.

Jensen watched to see if someone else would make a move, but no one did. Yet.

Dean leaned in, smooth and graceful, and whispered something in the man's ear. Nod of the head was enough for Dean to let him go and it was over. The man backed up and Dean patted the pocket with money.

He smiled at Jensen again, but Jensen saw something behind the smirk and it made him say "I'm not doing so well, man. I think you need to drive me home before I throw up all over the place."

Dean's smirk fell and he was next to Jensen in a second. "Yeah, sure, let's go. Just let me find Josh."

The drive home was surreal. Silence was breaking a hole in Jensen's skull, much as he assumed Josh's glare was doing for Dean. Dean, who was sitting there like he was about to face trial, but not caring about it at all. Jensen could hazard a guess at what he was thinking, but he was wrong, Jensen just didn't want to talk in front of his brother. Not now, and not about this.

Josh went to sleep without saying good night to either of them and Jensen sighed. They'd talk in the morning. _One crisis at a time please._

The second they walked into the room Dean turned to him, face set in a stubborn _C'mon, say it._

Jensen decided to mess with Dean. Cause he could. And was still just a tad bit drunk.

He lifted his arm just a bit and reached for the cuff of Dean's shirt, pulling them closer with slow pressure. When their lips were a mere inch apart, he whispered, "That was the hottest thing in the world. You need to fuck me. Now."

Dean stood shocked for a few seconds while Jensen sucked on his tongue, then pulled away a bit. "Watching me manhandle other men gets you horny?"

Jensen almost blushed and looked away. _Yeah, that would have actually been a better explanation._

Dean looked perhaps... disappointed, so no, not _better_ but definitely less embarrassing for Jensen. "Um. No." They were still pressed together from bellies down and Jensen wanted to end the talking soon and start the fucking cause... _hard_.

"No?" Dean's palm was on his neck now and a thumb was rubbing his bottom lip. He licked at it quickly and watched Dean's eyes fix on his lips. The thumb started a slow probing into his mouth and he would have sucked on it if Dean hadn't asked again. "What, then?"

"Playing pool." The words were almost mumbled but Dean heard them anyway.

He smiled broadly and disbelieving. "You're kidding me. You've seen me naked, and you get horny by watching me play pool?"

Jensen rolled his eyes and pushed Dean gently on the bed. "Your ego has no limits."

"And obviously it doesn't need any."

It was hard to disagree and suck on two fingers at the same time.

"So, what? Is it my ass? The bending? The big stick?"

Jensen slipped his hand into Dean's jeans and around his dick. "Oh yeah, definitely the big stick."

Dean's hands then went around his waist and up the back, causing nerve endings in Jensen to sing and his cock to pulse.

"That."

"What?"

"You just... Oh god... do that again..."

Dean's nails, all ten of them, scratched firm lines down Jensen's back. He arched and stifled a groan that would have woken everyone in the house up. The entire conversation was whispered, but when Jensen bent down to talk into Dean's ear, it was more puffs of air than actual sounds.

"You looked like a stranger. An incredibly hot, fuckable stranger. I wanted to take you home and let you fuck me. And I knew you'd know exactly where to touch me to make me wanna scream." His hips were rutting against Dean's. "You always make me wanna scream, Dean. You touch me like you played that game. You just know."

Dean's breathing was now hard and labored, Jensen's hand jerking him off under an almost painful angle and his hip being humped by Jensen's dick.

"Where to touch, how hard to push, when to back off. Make me fucking crazy, so perfect, so sure."

Something he said had an impact on Dean, as he was suddenly on his back, Dean unzipping his jeans and swallowing his moans. "You don't know. You don't even know me."

Dean's words hurt Jensen through the haze of wanting and alcohol. He lifted Dean's head with hard fingers pulling on hair. "There's a bunch of things I don't know about you, Dean. A life's worth. But this? How you touch me? How you make me feel? I know this. Don't even try to deny who you are when you're with me."

He arched up prepared for an angry kiss but Dean's lips were just what he wanted instead. Sure and conquering.

**

Dean was sipping on his coffee and walking around the living room, wondering if he should wake Jensen up, when a sight through the curtains caught his eye.

"Oh hell no!"

He stormed out and stepped in front of Josh before he could actually think about it.

"What are you doing?"

Josh lifted his arms to placate him but it really wasn't working.

His baby way standing there looking pretty and doing nothing at all to bother Josh and the man was staring at her in a funny way. Whatever problem with Dean Josh might have, Impala was no part of it, and he was not gonna let her get hurt.

"It's a beautiful car, man, I was just looking."

Dean snorted "You were sitting in her yesterday, it's not exactly news any more."

"Sitting in it isn't the same as looking at it. Or inside it."

No, it wasn't. Dean cocked his head. "You wanna see?"

Twenty minutes later they were both elbows deep in the Impala’s hood, oily and dirty.

Jensen came out looking at them suspiciously, cradling his coffee and ... barefoot. Dean had to stop himself from going over and licking Jensen in front of the whole world.

"You two ok?"

"Yeah, your brother knows his cars."

"I know. He just sold his Pontiac a few months ago, spent years working on that pile of garbage too. Made it into something. Then sold it."

Dean remembered the photo he saw in Jensen’s house the first day they spent together. But, man, _sold it_? What the hell? "Why sell it?"

"Smaller flat, no garage, I could only afford one car and a classical one wasn't it. I could let it rot here or sell it to someone who'd appreciate it."

"Sucks."

"You have no idea."

Probably not. Dean didn't even want to imagine what he'd feel like if he had to sell his baby. After his dad died... well, he was numb anyway; she was just another ruined thing in his life. He rebuilt her, but it took him a really long time to understand he could have lost her in the first place. If not for Sam being a stubborn bastard. He let his fingers drift on the open hood and saw Jensen smirk at him.

"Shut up."

Jensen just smiled wider and went back in, clearly deciding the two men could be left alone after all.

Some hours later they were sitting on the back porch and the talk of cars and music had died down.

Josh was apparently done with beating around the bush. "He's my kid brother. If you hurt him, in any way, I don't even care, I will fucking kill you."

Dean just nodded, "Yeah, I know."

He had Sammy. He knew what Josh thought when he saw him twist that man yesterday. He was always aware of his strength and how to flaunt it and when to play it down. Sometimes it was a matter of choice and yesterday, well, yesterday it was important to not start a bar fight. And showing weakness would have started one for sure. Yeah, he was strong and trained.

But Josh didn't know, and didn't need to know, what Jensen could do to him with a single look. So he figured they were on equal ground.

Jensen joined them. This time they were safe from the nosy neighbors and Jensen's hand found its way to Dean's nape, causing what Dean knew was a goofy smile and a look he tossed at Jensen must have said more than he wanted it to cause Josh suddenly got restless and looked away and went for another ice tea.

"I think we freaked your brother out."

" _I_ can't believe you two are talking."

Dean shrugged and pulled himself up to stand next to Jensen "He's an older brother. It's nothing I can't relate to."

He thumbed Jensen's lip and watched the tongue peek out to taste him. "You owe me a story I think."

Jensen's eyes fell and he stepped away. "Yeah. I..."

"Can we go somewhere after lunch?"

"Sure. Yeah. Actually, if it's ok, by the river, where we went the first day?"

"Why not."

A quick kiss and a smile to try and calm Jensen down. Dean just wanted to ask a few questions. Possibly find out the name and go kill the guy. Nothing radical, nothing Jensen had to be so miserable about.

Hell, one day when Jensen got hold of his past... best not to think about _that_.

"Hey." He pulled Jensen by his sleeve "Stop worrying so much. I already know the gist. I just want to know more. You can't freak me out."

Jensen smiled like he wasn't sure but nodded anyway and crap, he was too adorable for Dean to handle. He cupped Jensen's face with both hands and licked a stripe diagonally over it.

"Horrible."

"You love it."

"Your spit on my face? Not so much, dude."

"But you don't mind it on your..." the rest of the sentence was muffled behind Jensen's palm. _Chicken._

"I'm gonna go wash my face. You. Stay."

"M'not a dog!"

"Right."

**

Grass was wet and cool when they sat on the ground by the river. Jensen had his shoes off in one second and his feet scaring the tiny fish away in the next. Dean was choking down his pie, which Jensen's mother gave him extra of, 'cause he was just _that_ adorable.

And then Jensen made him take his shoes off again and stick _his_ feet in the freezing water and if that continued his feet would eventually just fall off.

They kissed lazily, Jensen tasted of mint and Dean knew he tasted like apple pie which sounded awesome but probably wasn't, but Jensen didn’t seem to mind.

Dean however wasn't into mint at all. He licked away the taste until he reached Jensen and then relaxed back letting Jensen take control of the kiss and do the awkward semi-bending over.

Then Jensen flopped next to him with a sigh. "Suppose you want the story now, huh?"

 _What? Where did the kissing go? Oh. Right._ "Yeah."

Both of them staring at the sky, Jensen shifted a bit so their clothes were the only thing touching. Dean didn't want to push. Yet.

"So... I was fifteen. And I had done some modeling before, I wasn't really crazy about it, but I wanted to be able to buy my own car and I tried to get myself a new modeling gig with a company from Dallas but couldn't.

Some receptionist that watched me pass by one too many times told me about this freelance photographer who had some pull and perhaps if he made the photos, we could pitch them to one of the companies and get what I wanted."

Jensen's hands would raise sometimes to wave through the air as he talked but then they'd fall down again like he would realize they couldn't say anything more than he already was.

"So I made the call and met the guy for a drink. Man, he was something else." Jensen laughed bitterly.

"I'm not even gonna pretend I didn't like him. He was hot and built and just artistic enough to get me to open up. We talked for hours that first time. He didn't... he didn't treat me like an adult, you know... just like it was ok to be who I was."

Dean was looking at his face now, his words held a hint of desperation, like he really wanted Dean to understand something. What?

"We started meeting regularly. Sometimes he took my photos, sometimes he didn't. We didn't... we never had sex. We kissed. A few times. But it wasn't like that. I thought I loved him. And that he loved me.”

_I wasn’t a victim._ Dean got it.

“It was weird because, he was my first gay experience in a way, but it wasn't, almost, at all physical and it never hit me back then, like, oh my god I'm gay. He was just a guy I really liked that I kissed sometimes."

His laughter was more honest this time and Dean knew he was lost in his thoughts.

"That's how Josh found out. ‘Cause I didn't know there was anything wrong with what we did. Well, not the kissing, I wasn't an idiot. But the amount of time we spent together. He was... a bit over thirty."

Dean heard the hitch in his voice and knew that was one steep hill they climbed. He wondered how many more there'd be. They still weren't touching and he wasn't sure if he should reassure or not. He stayed calm.

"Josh tried talking to me but I refused to see anything wrong with it. He found him. Went to him. Asked what the hell was going on. I don't know what he answered but... Josh flipped. He said later he wanted to kill him.

Then, then _he_ mentioned some photos of me he had. And how if Josh touched him those photos could find their way out. And Josh said he'd leave him alone in exchange for those photos. Somehow, he got them."

Dean frowned.

"He never called. And when I called him again he gave me some crap about never understanding something and I hung up and that was basically it."

"What was on the photos?" His voice was raspy and Jensen flinched.

"They. He was. He was really big. Like, tall, and muscles, strong, you know."

Dean didn't see how this could be going anywhere good, but Jensen had said it was nothing physical.

"I was. Tiny I guess? And..."

 _Girly_ was what Jensen was looking for and now Dean _was_ getting pissed.

"Well. You know. And pretty. He made a few shots of us, together. We didn't do anything. But it looked like we might be.

He was holding me down, mostly. Or I was sitting on him. There were all these lights. He was. Dark. In the photos. And I was always lit up. I thought… they were beautiful."

Jensen's sentences were starting to break more and more and more and pretty soon they'd be nothing but words. Humiliating and self-deprecating words.

"But, I looked like a..."

Dean had heard enough. He bent over Jensen and took the sounds from his lips.

He remembered what he looked like in high school. In his experience the only people who noticed he was "pretty" were girls and gay men. All of them wanted to fuck him, and he knew it was his to give or deny.

Jensen didn't have that kind of control. He was always just pretty. He didn't have a father who taught him how to hold a rifle when he was six, or break a bone on a human body when he was twelve.

Jensen was trying to kiss back but his lips were immobile and shaky.

Dean didn't often wish he had the perfect words for any situation, but this was one of them. He needed Jensen to take over the kissing, the making out, hell, the sex, now, before the memories had time to spread all over him and make him rethink everything they did in the past few weeks.

He was so caught up in thinking about it he didn't even notice when Jensen stopped and just looked at him. _Awkward._

"Um..."

Jensen smiled, hugged him around the neck and pulled him closer. "You're a total freak you know that?"

Dean wondered if he should be insulted. The words were bad, but the tone was pure affection.

"It's adorable. Thank you."

"For what?" Dean was beyond confused. Not that he minded, but what the hell did he do?

"For being ok with this. For totally ignoring all the relevant parts of the story and thinking only about how you have to help me _now_."

 _How did he know?_ "How did...?"

Jensen kissed the tip of his nose. "You get this look when you're scheming. It's cute. But kinda memorable."

"I do not!"

"You totally do. It's a good thing you're not a secret agent."

Dean's outrage was kissed away until he was on his back, jeans getting wet in the river and sticking to his legs, freezing him even more.

Jensen laughed at him as they pulled up a bit. Dean closed his eyes and pulled Jensen on top of him.

"I just thought he really cared about me you know?"

Jensen's words came out of nowhere and Dean opened his mouth before he could think better of it. "He did." … _Fuck!_

Jensen's head came up and Dean knew he was looking at him but refused to look back.

"What?"

"Nothing. I'm half asleep..."

“No you're not, what do you mean 'he did.'” Jensen was sitting up now, again breaking the touch.

 _Really. Fuck!_ Dean swallowed and decided to try and give his thoughts words. He did it a few times before. He'd do it now, and hope Jensen, or Josh, didn't kick his ass for it.

"I'm not saying there was a whole lotta normal in what he had with you. But, he didn't have sex with you, even if he wanted to.

Your brother came there to beat him up, he dragged out the photos, pretty much his only protection. A chicken's move, but I'm not calling him brave anyway. He hands over the photos on account of your brother's word? Risks being beaten anyway?

He doesn't treat you like an adult... or like a kid. He just liked _you_. Wrong as it was.

He wasn't in it for the photos. Creepy as _they_ were. Or sex."

Jensen looked shocked, staring at his own feet where they almost touched Dean's hip while he sat cross-legged.

"Look, what do I know about..."

"No. No. I never thought about it like that." Jensen smiled at him, "Man, you’ve gotta stop with this deep stuff, I'm gonna start thinking you're all emotional and smart."

Dean went to swat him but missed. On purpose. Cause even the smile was a little bit sad.

"It doesn't make what he did ok."

"I know. But it... It means a lot to think that he cared, that I wasn't a total idiot."

Dean bit his tongue on a snarky retort but Jensen caught him.

"Shut up!"

Jensen shuffled next to him and kissed his neck, just once, gently. And if later when he slipped into Jensen's heat, breathy moans encouraging him on, Dean slipped the word "love" in his "god so fucking tight" that was nobody's business but his own. He made sure it was silent enough to stay that way.

\--

Jensen's grandmother didn't know he liked men. There was no need for her to know _anything_ about his sex life. On one hand it would have been great if he was able to introduce Dean as his boyfriend. But on the other, even if he had a girlfriend he still wouldn't make out with her in front of his grandmother.

Ok, this was slightly more restricting, but nothing he needed to upset a seventy year old religious woman about. He loved her. She made him quilts and baked him cookies and wrote him letters that he replied even when he distanced himself from everyone else.

She was special. But he also respected her. And the time and customs she was raised in.

He tried explaining this to Dean and didn't realize he had succeeded until Dean started faking sleep to make him stop talking.

"Dude! This is important."

"Don't suck Jensen off in front of grandma. Got it."

"Whoa. Gross."

"But to the point. You should try it."

Jensen just stuck his tongue out at him.

His grandma lived on the same land where he took Dean those two times, but her house was a good distance away. His grandfather had inherited a huge portion of land, that would one day probably go to the state, since nobody in his family wanted it any more.

Grandma lived there alone now, Jensen guessed so she could feel loved when all her children and grandchildren called all the time to check up on her.

His family came along and they introduced Dean as a friend and Jensen had to admit he would probably never get used to the strange looks people gave them when they first saw them together. Dean didn't seem to be bothered by it at all.

Another thing he couldn't seem to wrap his mind about was how polite Dean was to everybody. Not that he was particularly rude usually, but he had this incredibly respectful way of treating older people, that Jensen was always assured only Texans were taught; while still being the same cocky self and not bowing to their whims.

So, maybe he was a little bit in love and thought everything his boyfriend did was perfect. Who could blame him. Dean _was_ pretty amazing. Flying dirty socks and food leftovers aside.

Telling grandma Dean had fixed grandpa's phonograph was a total mistake though, 'cause she ended up giving Dean all his cakes and the bastard couldn't be persuaded to share, and Jensen couldn't promise steamy sex or anything really good in return in front of everybody.

And he kinda wondered anyway if sex topped food in Dean's universe.

But then she opened her magic chest of incredible things and pulled out some old records that had Jensen salivating, and _those_ were all his.

At one point the rest of the family had left back home, calling it a day, but Jensen stayed, and got Dean to stay with him, because it could be ten days before he saw her again or it could be a month. He wanted some quality time.

Dean gave them space and was mostly outside, actually _rocking_ in the rocking chair and staring at the distance.

It was getting darker and his grandma was sitting out with both of them now, telling Dean all the embarrassing stories from Jensen's childhood that only grandmas ever thought were _cute_ and not mortifying.

But as the sun was setting and the darkness started spreading she was starting to act somehow... nervous. And Jensen was getting worried. She lived alone in a middle of nowhere, was she scared? Why the hell hadn't anyone noticed anything before? Or did they just think it didn't matter?

"Are you ok?"

His grandma looked startled, "Yes. Of course. We should go inside though, it's starting to get chilly."

Dean didn't look like he bought that either. "Is something wrong, ma'am?"

His grandma gave a short laugh. "Yes. I'm old and senile." She smiled a full blown smile and walked in, expecting them to follow.

Dean looked at him questioningly but Jensen just shrugged. He had no idea either.

"Are you OK since Emmy left?" was the first thing he asked when they were all back inside.

Emmy was grandma's almost-maid for a long time. She came when his grandma got pregnant with her first child and couldn't take care of the place any more 'cause she was forced to lie in bed, and only left a few months ago, when her own age started weighing down on her.

"Oh sweetie, I'm fine. Really. I'm just... old." Her smile was tired now. "And have bad eyes that see things that aren't there. Night just doesn't do me good any more."

He nodded understandingly and turned to look at Dean expecting to see a smile but Dean had an expression on his face that Jensen was pretty sure he never saw before.

"What kind of things?"

Jensen had no idea why Dean thought that was at all relevant.

"Oh. I don't even know. Shadows. Usually out of the corner of my eye I see something but of course when I turn it's nothing. Old eyes play horrible games in the dark."

Dean was still frowning but whatever his problem was, and as bad as Jensen felt for his grandma, he saw no point in continuing the conversation. _Moving on, please._

So he swerved it to grandma's bridge club, and leaned back listening to town gossip he missed as much as his family sometimes.

Dean had disappeared again at one point, and Jensen heard his car opening and closing, but not starting, and some half an hour later he was back, as if nothing had happened. _Hello. Freak._

By the time they had left though, Jensen forgot all about it, and was sitting almost on top of Dean distracting him as he drove down the empty streets. He had a plan of attack all ready when Dean gently removed Jensen's hands from himself and said, "I have to go, tonight, to do something. I'm sorry but this is pretty much the only time I'll have a chance to do so and ... I know it's not the plan, but I'll meet you back in Vancouver, OK?"

"Not so much actually, no." Jensen's voice was calm out of pure confusion.

Dean looked at him as if exasperated, but the conversation had just started. "Look, I wouldn't do it if it wasn't important. Please don't make this an issue."

Jensen leaned back in his seat. He wasn't scolding his husband for working too late, he just had a question or two, certainly wasn't gonna nod and obey just cause Dean said something.

"Dude, I just wanna know where you'll be. I'm not your employee, don't dismiss me."

Dean was biting on his lip nervously. "Fuck." He pulled over and got out of the car before Jensen even realized what was going on.

Jensen came out and stood next to Dean who was staring at the dark in front of him.

"I can't do this."

And ok, Jensen was panicking now. "D..." _Breathe in._ "Do what?" _Breathe out._

Dean was still immobile. Lights from the car were illuminating just one side of his face, and that wasn't the side Jensen was looking at. Dean looked... dangerous. Surrounded by the dark and completely comfortable in it.

"Dean." Jensen wanted to reach out and touch him but was too afraid of what reaction he'd get. "Do what?"

"Lie to you."

Seconds passed and Jensen fought his desire to say _Please do. Just lie to me, whatever it is, I'm sure it doesn't matter. Just stay._ Cause really, he wasn't that pathetic. "OK. So don't."

Dean turned to him with a small smile and he looked so sad and lost Jensen did reach out after all and tried to comfort him despite the surreal conversation that was happening.

Dean seemed equally surprised by that. He took Jensen's hand and caressed his fingers with his thumb before stepping away.

"There's absolutely no way I can prove this to you without putting you in danger. And I will _not_ do that." He took a step back, closer to the car, before he continued. "Your grandmother doesn't have bad eyes. There's a ghost, which has for some reason stayed outside all this time, haunting the land. My job is to hunt those things down. Before they hurt anybody."

Jensen stood waiting for the punch line. Crickets.

Dean looked absolutely serious. And sad. Dean was insane. He was in a relationship with an insane man. Wow... Josh would have a field day. Minutes passed. He wondered idly if he would have to walk all the way home. What were the chances of another car passing by at this time of night? Crap. He was in the middle of nowhere with a potential psycho. And _fuck_!

"You stay the fuck away from my grandmother!"

Dean flinched as Jensen barreled towards him but didn't move away.

"I don't give a shit about your schizophrenia or whatever the hell it is, you _will_ stay away from her or I will fucking kill you! You hear me?"

Threatening an obviously sick man might not have been the best course of action but fuck, she was alone and Dean thought... god only knows what.

Dean frowned now. "It's gonna hurt her if I don't..."

"Are you threatening me!?" Jensen spat out through closed teeth.

Dean sighed, tiredly. "No, Jensen. This is... fuck this is a problem."

"You think?"

"If I leave, and it gets in the house, not only will she be hurt, but you'll think I was the one who did it, won't you?"

Jensen had no idea what Dean was talking about, but he guessed it was only to be expected.

Through all the sadness and tiredness on Dean's face, decisiveness suddenly broke, and Jensen stepped back frightened but it was too late. Dean grabbed his hand and hauled him into the car.

"You love your grandmother? Sit there and be quiet."

Dean got into the car and turned back to where they were coming from. And no, Jensen wasn't having that. He jumped Dean and tried to punch in the nose or knee his crotch, anything that would hurt enough for Jensen to be able to throw him out and drive away, but Dean was apparently much, much stronger than he ever showed.

He stopped the car and pressed Jensen down with his full weight, hands held tight behind his back.

"You think I'm a psycho? Then you want to appease me, not piss me off. Psychology 101."

Jensen stared with wide eyes and was still unnerved by the total lack of actual anger in Dean. Whatever he did, what ever words he said, his eyes were constantly just fucking sad, and Jensen wondered if he was one of those people who thought they had to deliver tough love to make the world a better place. _I fight evil._

Shit. _Shit. Shit. Shit. Jensen you're a fucking idiot. And a slut. Show you a nice dick and all's right with the world huh?_

Dean let him go slowly. "Don't make me tie you up."

Fuckit. Jensen would be still until they got to the house. There he could perhaps make a move that wouldn't get him thrown out of the car and unable to help his grandma. And because he couldn't find his cell phone anywhere, not discreetly anyway.

When they pulled in, the lights were still on in one room and Dean threw him a side glance, clearly not stupid even if totally crazy.

"Don't try to do anything heroic ok? I'm not asking you to trust me 'cause... well, not much point in that. But don't put your life in danger unless you're absolutely sure you will win. Ok?"

Was he dispensing advice now? Great. Yeah, sure. "Whatever."

Dean sighed and shook his head then stepped out of the car, waiting for Jensen to follow. _Can I outrun him? And go where... she's still here._

There was a sudden noise and a scream from the house and Jensen turned to run in, just a second before Dean caught him.

"Let me go you fucking..."

But Dean just pushed him to the back of the car and held him with one hand while he opened the trunk with the other. Fight as he may, Dean's body had him pinned at the knees to the car and he couldn't get leverage to hit or push him.

Then Dean popped a false bottom up and Jensen's blood ran cold at the sight of weapons in there. He started fighting like crazy, managing to hit Dean in the face with his elbow and actually breaking loose.

He ran into the house and up, where the light was, but the door was locked and he couldn't fucking open it. He panicked and threw himself at the door, hitting it and shouting but it wasn't helping. Whoever was in there must have blocked the door with something, because he knew this wood wasn't that hard.

Then he saw Dean. Running at him with a shotgun and an axe. Fuck, he was gonna die, and Josh was SO not gonna be happy with _that_.

Jensen turned to see if there was anything near him he could use as a weapon but Dean was ignoring him completely, axing down the door. He simply threw himself at Dean, punches flying, throwing them both on the floor and Dean hissed.

"Dammit Jensen! It's after her, just let me..."

Jensen's fist crashed into his mouth and Dean had clearly had enough because he flipped Jensen over in a morbidly familiar move and held him down.

"You're stealing time, let me break down the door, then attack me if you must. Think."

Wow, he really was giving advice. Insanity ran deep in this one. But he had a point.

Jensen relaxed and let Dean get up and axe a hole in the door.

Then he just sat there with his mouth agape and watched the furniture being thrown about by nobody, Dean shooting at the said nobody and breaking down the door all the way.

He took his grandma from Dean's hands when he was told to do it and ran out with her.

He heard shots being fired behind him and then Dean was pushing him towards the Impala again, placing her at the back and Jensen at the front seat.

He checked on his grandma when Dean told him to, and yes, she was alive, weak but moving. It was all automatic, he felt nothing and understood less.

A few miles down the road Dean stopped and Jensen shouted at him to drive the fuck on but Dean just told him to be quiet.

He walked over to his grandmother and Jensen really wasn't sure when Dean became the good guy again. _Was insanity contagious?_

He heard Dean asking her questions. But wasn't really paying attention until he heard her try to answer. She was telling Dean about a story they used to hear, about an old Native American who was killed on the land and it was believed his bones were buried under what is probably the biggest tree there.

She told Dean how Emmy believed the story and took care of the tree, like it said you should. But since she left, no one did that any more, and the tree had started to rot. Someone said that meant the spirit was getting angry, but she didn't believe.

Jensen still didn't. Except. He shook his head, he couldn't think about that now.

"Shouldn't we get her to a hospital?"

"You should. I'm gonna go find the tree and see if there are any bones to burn, or if just burning the tree could possibly do."

"I don't need to go to any hospital," his grandmother said before he got a chance to open his mouth and Dean and Jensen _both_ scowled at her. "It scared me and I got a bit winded but it didn't do anything. I'll be fine."

"I don't think so."

"Jensen, I'm fine. And what will you tell the doctors happened? Or your parents?"

"Well you can't go back to the house so..."

"Take me to Millie's. She'll love this, and keep her mouth shut once it's all over."

He loved his grandma. And Dean seemed to be impressed by her too. _Shit. Dean. Can't even..._

He shook his head determined to postpone any _thinking_ to as _later_ as possible.

As they drove to the neighbor’s house, a bit more then ten minutes away, Dean and grandma apparently made a plan. She explained to Dean where the tree was and they even agreed on all convenient lies they could tell should someone ask any nosy questions. Jensen noticed none of those plans included him.

"I'll take you home before I go find it." Dean's voice was quieter than usually but commanding none the less.

"I'm coming with you."

"The hell you are." Dean shot him an annoyed look.

"I know where the tree is, it will be faster."

"Yeah, and more dangerous. It's not a debate."

He wanted to lean over and kiss him. He leaned his forehead on the cool glass instead and looked into the dark. He should apologize, beg forgiveness or something. But he didn't want to, damn it. His reaction was normal.

Still. He couldn't begin to imagine how Dean felt. Or how many times this happened before in his life. _Damn it._

It only occurred to him when they stood outside Millie's house that his grandmother was in her nightgown and he rubbed his forehead thinking how they'll explain _that_.

He shouldn't have bothered. The minute Millie's husband opened the door, his wife right behind him practically jumping to see over his shoulder, his grandmother started telling the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Well, mostly. Except she exaggerated instead of diminishing. He almost smiled at that.

Dean let them say goodbye and sat in the car waiting for him.

\--

He started the car and turned the music on as soon as Jensen got in. His chest felt like it was on fire and there was a huge ball stuck in his throat. His hands were clenching the wheel and he really wished he didn't have to drive alone with Jensen now.

Then Jensen turned the music off. "I'm coming with you."

Dean just clenched his jaw and kept on driving.

"Dean."

"I'm taking you home, Jensen. I'm not letting you get hurt for this."

"Oh but you can."

"It's my job."

That seemed to shut Jensen up and the next five or so minutes were spent in silence. Just Dean and his thoughts. Never a good combination. Fuck but he couldn't even bring himself to be angry about this. Jensen reacted like he expected he would. There was no reason to believe Dean. Which hurt in so many ways he knew it had no right to because... he did lie. His whole life and to everybody, even Jensen. And just because he had his reasons, didn't mean anyone should understand. But he had still hoped. And now it was over.

He couldn't, after only a month, imagine what it would feel like, living without Jensen filling all the empty spaces in his day and his thoughts.

He loved his job. But sometimes he wished he was an accountant.

"It's here." Jensen's voice broke through his pain.

"What is?"

"The tree. A few minutes away from here, into the orchard. Or, what used to be the orchard. My house is half an hour away. And then back again."

"That's ok. I've got plenty of gas."

"Dean, c'mon. Let's just do what we have to and go home, ok?"

__

_Home. Right._

He ignored Jensen completely and kept on driving until Jensen placed his hand on his wrist and he almost swerved off the road.

"What the fuck!?"

Jensen pulled away slightly scared and _shit_ but Dean was tired of seeing that look on him tonight.

"Jensen, don't make this difficult. The ghost is still out there, still pissed, it's not picky. Just let me take you home."

"No. How is it safer for you to go there alone than me to come with you?"

"Cause I know what I'm doing and you're a civilian who doesn't even believe in ghosts and would slow me down and get us both killed."

Words were harsh but the tone was neutral. Dean knew Jensen should have lived his life not knowing what lurks in the dark, but it was out, and Dean couldn't comfort him, not now.

He though he might be having a heart attack, because he never before felt his heart constrict like it did at that moment, but he smiled to himself, sadly, _no, it's just Jensen giving him back all the pieces he took. On the bright side, when this is over you will make a fortune on sappy poetry_. He almost laughed out loud. Almost.

But hysterics were never a good thing to carry on a hunt. So he slipped into his hunting mood and erased everything else. _Focus, Dean._

"Dean?"

"Yes?"

"Why do you have to do it tonight?"

"So that she can come back in the morning and not have the same crap happen tomorrow night?"

"But... it only comes out during the night, right?"

"Yeah. Well. Probably."

"So you can do it in the morning before she comes back but after the ghost is gone."

He could. But for one, sleeping in his car made him cranky, and second, probably more to the point, he had a bone to pick with that stupid ghost. He wanted a chance to fill it up with rocksalt and have a proper fight with it before he sent it to wherever the hell it should have been in the first place. He needed some physical pain to overcome the other.

Jensen though probably needed a pretty reason. So he chose the first one.

"I'm not gonna sleep in the car waiting for fucking dawn, Jensen, I'm gonna get rid of it and find a motel so I can get some rest before I hit the road."

"You..." Jensen started but didn't seem able to find the words so he stopped. A full few minutes later Dean heard him try again. "You're leaving."

It _sounded_ like a statement. So why was Jensen looking at him like he wanted an answer?

"Yeah, shockingly, I'm not gonna wait for Josh to kick my ass." He actually managed a smile on this one.

Then he felt something tickle his side and he shifted a bit to scratch/move it, but he realized it was Jensen's hand, clutching the shirt where it rumpled on Dean's hip.

"Are you okay, man?"

__

_Of course he's not ok, he just found out his now fortunately ex boyfriend is a total freak and that monsters do exist, how could he be ok._ __

"Don't."

Dean pulled over, again, because Jensen looked like he was choking or possibly trying to throw up and no way was that happening on his upholstery. Before he could step out and help Jensen throw up on the right side of the door though, Jensen's palm cupped his face and turned him towards himself.

"Don't. I don't want to say I'm sorry. I don't know what the proper reaction to what you said before should have been, but mine was the only possible one for me to have. I'm sorry I hurt you. I can't be sorry about how I reacted, please understand?"

Jensen's eyes were huge and pleading and Dean had no idea what he was talking about.

"You have nothing to apologize for, Jensen. Don't worry about it." And he meant it. There was a time he thought people should accept what he is just because they trusted _him_. He was cured of that illusion.

Jensen shook his head like it's not true but asked instead "So you'll stay?"

"Jensen... I don't usually sleep in the same bed with people I just broke up with, do you?"

Jensen flinched and backed away "You're breaking up with me?"

Dean thought perhaps Jensen hit his head somewhere tonight. "No, dude, you broke up with me?"

"When?!" And Jensen looked away because he knew it was a stupid question but Dean answered anyway.

"Right about the time you accused me of trying to kill your family, I think."

Then Jensen leaned in again and talked in almost whispers. "Will you come home with me please? I didn't believe you, I didn't believe in ... But I saw with my own eyes and hell, unless I'm crazy too, there's something out there, right? Please don't hate me for accusing you of all of that? Can we just... try? Now that the secret is out? Can you... be with me?"

Dean was drowning in those eyes, they were shiny with tears and hope and pleading.

There were nails scratching their way out of Dean's throat. He couldn't believe it. Shouldn't let himself. But Jensen was there. Saying it. Accepting him.

Dean ripped out of the car and walked back into the dark to calm his breathing and his heart that wanted to jump out of his chest and just keep beating in Jensen's hand forever. Tears were pooling in his eyes and he choked those back swiftly, but the rest of his body was shaking and screaming for Dean to go back and wrap himself into Jensen, _now_.

He didn't know how long he stood there, in the dark, shaking and trying not to break into pieces so tiny Jensen would never find him again. When he came back, Jensen was leaning on the trunk of the car, waiting for him. _I love you._

Dean stood before him and touched their foreheads together so their breaths mingled. Jensen's hands found his face and held him close as their lips touched.

"Is that a yes?" Jensen's words were just air against Dean's lips.

"Yes."

Jensen must have felt the tension in his muscles because he moved away slowly and pushed Dean to his side.

"Home, c'mon."

\--

They went directly to Jensen's room and closed the door quietly. Dean stood awkward, like he hasn't even the first time he stepped in there and Jensen leaned a hand to his back, reminded again of the knots in every single part of Dean's body.

He lead Dean towards the bathroom and simply told him to shower, then threw him a clean pair of boxers when he was done, before leaving to go shower himself. While the warm water cascaded down his body he felt his own muscles ache as they relaxed.

He wondered if Dean would leave while he was here. If he even wanted to stay after the way Jensen had treated him. Jesus but what was he supposed to do? He hadn't realized... He though Dean knew once he was proven to be sane Jensen would want him to stay. It was that simple. But it wasn't. Not for Dean anyway.

Jensen knew, rationally, it shouldn't have been for him either. The man burned corpses for a living for fuck sakes. But he knew all about “Dean and his job” before, when he didn't know all the details of the job itself. And those facts remained. Dean's pride at his work, his selflessness and the joy he took from it, messed up as it may be. And in a way, Jensen was happy Dean didn't catch criminals. People.

He didn't even consider blaming Dean for lying to him. There was no moment in time when that truth would have gotten any better a reaction.

So yeah, he still wanted to be with Dean. Stupid or not. And whoever had hurt Dean before, dismissing him because of what he did, well, Jensen could only thank them and tell them to go to hell.

When he came into the room Dean was sitting on his bed, in just the boxers, looking at the floor like it was the most interesting movie ever. Jensen knelt between his legs surprising him. He was not letting this happen. This wasn't Dean. Quiet and stiff and defeated. No. He opened his lips under Dean's and invited the other man in, letting his tongue explore, holding him closer and arching himself up to touch as much of their bodies together as possible.

It took a while, but finally Dean took a breath and pulled him up, on the bed, cradling him with strong legs. Jensen wanted so much to just slip under Dean's chin and think until sleep took over, but he wanted Dean to smile first. A real smile, like he got when there was sex to be had or the smell of artery clogging food beckoned him.

There was a bruise forming on Dean's cheekbone, where he elbowed him, and Jensen bent down and kissed it gently.

"Josh's gonna think I'm abusing you now. He'll kick _my_ ass."

Dean released a soft laugh and held him tighter. Jensen kissed and touched him for long minutes, easing the stiffness in Dean's muscles and letting them get comfortable with each other again.

"I want to know."

Dean looked up at him.

"I want to know about your life. How you became..." He waved his hands because ghost buster seemed too ridiculous.

"Hunter." Dean supplied.

"Hunter."

Jensen had said the word hundreds of times in his life, but it never had quite that definition. It made him understand how different their lives were, where same words held different meanings.

"Not now. But someday, when you feel like it. I want to know everything."

He looked into Dean's eyes and saw hope and affection mixed with a bit of fear and he kissed it all away, making a clean slate for what he wanted to make him feel.

But Dean was still so quiet. Probably still angry at him. And he can't even shout at Jensen with his parents just down the hall.

"Hey."

"Hm?"

Jensen's fingers were caressing his face softly and Dean's eyes were droopy.

"We'll go somewhere tomorrow so you can yell at me all you want ok?"

Dean opened his eyes fully and looked at him apparently confused. "What? Why?"

"Dude, I crapped all over you tonight, I know you're pissed, and you don't wanna alert my folks, so, we'll go somewhere and you can bitch at me for not trusting you, ok?"

Dean laughed so loudly Jensen actually flinched from the sound breaking the silence of the night. He twisted them around so Jensen was on his back now and started kissing Jensen's shoulder, still chuckling.

When he looked up at Jensen's face he was smiling and his eyes were sparkling. Jensen had no idea what happened but this was pretty much all he wanted. _Happy Dean!_

"I'm not pissed at you. I tried to be, but I just don't expect people to stick around when they find out what I do. And I know, you could change your mind by morning, hell, probably will, but I can't bring myself to care about that either now cause... you're here."

Dean leaned in. Jensen wanted to protest that he wasn't gonna change his mind but hey, kissing. He'd just show him.

And, _hm_. He just realized this was pretty much the longest speech he heard from Dean about his feelings and that made him warm inside. He never wanted Dean to turn into Romeo and write poetry. But he wanted him free to talk when it really mattered. And maybe Dean finally felt like he could.

They spent the time kissing and touching, both of them quiet and lost in their own thoughts but holding on to being _together_. Jensen fell asleep with his lips still opened on Dean's.

\--

"He knows."

"Dean?"

"He knows. About what we hunt."

"Shit. How?"

"His grandmother said she was seeing things. I checked it out with an EMF and yeah, it was a ghost. It was pretty close to the house. I had to do... something. So I told him. She's ok now. I'll do some arson tomorrow and it should be ok. I just... I could have lied to him you know? Should have. But. What's the point?"

"So now... are you still there?" _Is he still with you?_

"Yes. He says it's ok."

"Wow. That's amazing Dean."

Laughter. "Yeah. Amazing's a good word. Unbelievable's another."

"I'm the nerd here, don't play with words big brother, you'll hurt yourself."

"It just happened. He will change his mind when he gets time to think about it but... I can't leave."

"He might not."

"Sam. _We do what we do and shut up about it._ Right? There's a reason for that."

"Yeah. It's so we don't get busted. This is different."

"Is it?"

"Dean. If he didn't freak out..."

"He did. He really, really did. But then he saw it too and he believes me now. Doesn't mean he wants to deal with it. Ca..."

"Don't! Even say her name. She didn't leave you ‘cause of what you did. She left ‘cause she thought she was better than you. She was wrong. So just don't even compare Jensen to her."

"Fine."

"Don't fine me, Dean. _You_ called _me_. Why?"

"I wanted... Would you tell Shelly?"

"Not yet. But _we_ are taking things at a normal pace, not like our lives are depending on it." Sigh. "Each relationship is different Dean. What you and Jensen have... It's creepy. But right."

"We'll see."

"Stop with the middle of the night calls, Dean."

"You love me."

"No, you love me."

\--

Jensen was standing on the field. Grass around him burned and all the trees in the distance dead. He heard noise like voices around him, but wherever he turned there was nobody to see. Then suddenly there was a hand reaching for him. Rotting and gray it tried to touch his face and when he turned to run away from it there was another one. Then shapes and shadows appeared and soon he was surrounded by walking corpses, trying to touch him. One of the corpses looked familiar and he stopped to look at it, through the decaying flesh he saw eyes, Dean's eyes, his eyes. He looked down and saw he was turning gray too. Bits of his flesh were missing. He tried to scream but nothing came out. The hands were touching him now, tearing flesh from him, sighing his name. Jensen. Jensen. _Jensen._ Wake up. _What?_

"Wake up. It's just a nightmare, you're ok."

Hands were turning him now and he opened his eyes to find Dean's face still horribly distorted. He tried moving away but Dean wouldn't let him go.

"Wake up, man. Look at me. Look at me."

__

_No, I don't want to!_

"Jensen."

The voice was soothing now and his eyes were adjusting. Dean. His Dean. Alive.

"You're ok."

Dean smiled and combed through his hair with fingers. "Yeah, so are you."

Jensen lay down and started to calm his ragged breathing. "Damn."

Dean stepped out of the bed and brought him a glass of water from the bathroom. He went for the light but Jensen stopped him.

"No, just come here." He drank the water then scooted closer to Dean, holding and being held.

"Wanna tell me about it?"

"No."

"It's about what happened last night isn't it?"

Jensen nuzzled into Dean's neck.

"I'm sorry."

"For telling me the truth?" Jensen's words were muffled by Dean's skin.

"For showing you what's out there. You shouldn't have to live knowing that."

Jensen lifted his head up and loomed over Dean. "I never want to live blind to the facts, Dean. I work in the movie industry. Everything I know there is illusion. People, as well as the stories. I don't want to go through life like that as well, only seeing what I'm meant to. Scripted."

And he wasn't lying. This. It wasn't easy to accept. Scary as hell. But he didn't feel like he was more in danger for knowing it. He felt like he could protect himself, could react without being shocked if something like this ever happened again. Not that he awaited breathlessly for it.

"I gotta go in a bit."

"Where?"

"It's almost dawn. I have to go see about burning the bones, and possibly the tree."

"I'll come with you."

"Jensen..."

"No. It's day. It's not gonna be dangerous. Just let me help ok?"

Dean sighed but Jensen tasted victory. Then he tasted Dean for a while.

**

The tree really was hard to miss. Even more now then when it was at full bloom. The scene looked a bit like the one from Jensen's nightmare and that didn't make him feel at all comfortable.

Dean said there should be a way to tell if the man was really buried there, because he didn't feel like digging a ditch around the tree. There didn't seem to be any chance that there _wasn't_ a body.

"Tree is just a medium. There have to be bones, or at least some kind of leftovers." Dean had said.

Jensen didn't see any signs of anything even remotely alive in a few feet circle around the tree.

"Dammit." Dean pulled out his cell phone and called Sam.

"So basically you're throwing me a shot in the dark too? Thanks Sammy, could have done _that_ ourselves." Pause. "Yes he's with me."

Jensen looked at him.

"Shut up. Call me if you figure this out or I'm just gonna burn the whole place down."

Jensen's eyes went wide and Dean smiled at him. "I'm kidding.” Frown. “Mostly."

"What did Sam say?"

"To dig in the direction opposite of the house."

"Why?"

"Says if they bothered burying him for whatever reason, chances are they wouldn't want a view of it every time they passed by."

"OK. Are we going with that?"

"Sadly, yes."

**

Jensen was hard. Really, really hard and his muscles ached but his dick didn't seem to get it.

They've been digging for a while now. They actually found a bone, but it just hinted they were digging about three feet in the wrong direction so they started all over again, those few feet over.

Jensen was standing above the hole now though, he went for some water and when he was done drinking he tossed the bottle at Dean. And then his personal porn started; starring: Dean Winchester, featuring: a bottle, and a shirt. A gray, dirty, sweaty, probably fucking stinky shirt that clung to every muscle on that ripped body better than skin itself.

Sweat was sliding down Dean’s neck and pooling at the collar of the shirt and there was no way it should have been sexy at all, but then he took the bottle and swung his head back and the strong neck was full on display. Dark and wet and moving as he drank, those drops just gliding down all the places Jensen wanted to taste.

Then the bastard put the bottle in the dirt between his legs and took the shirt off. Just took it off. Like he was alone in some room where the _walls_ themselves wouldn't try to fuck him.

Jensen let out a mewling sound as his dick pulsed. Dean looked up surprised but smirked when he saw the bulge and Jensen's eyes swallowing him.

"You little pervert. Getting off on digging up bones?" Dean's smile was wicked but knowing.

"Shut up and give me the water back."

"No, no, it's ok, we all have our kinks. I can respect that."

He faked understanding and Jensen was about to jump him if he didn't shut up soon. Or if he did. Really, it didn't matter. He was gonna jump him. On top of a murderous corpse. Shit.

He took his shovel and kept on digging, Dean's eyes laughing at him the rest of the dig.

**

"We need s'mores." Dean choked on his water with laughter. The tree was burning, the bones had already burned away, now they just had to stay around to make sure the whole orchard didn't set on fire. They chopped off the branches and burned them along with the bones, but majority of the tree had to burn away like this.

"I got cards?"

__

_I got a dick._ "Sure."

**

"Man, it's freezing. My balls ache just looking at it. No. No way."

Jensen was taking his shirt off and his hands were on his belt when he caught Dean looking at them, licking his lips. Jensen let his fingers slide over his zipper and tugged on his cock a little watching Dean's reaction. _So easy._

"Ok, you don't have to."

The water _was_ freezing. But damn it he grew up swimming in that river, he could handle it.

And Dean's eyes did a lot to get his blood going.

He washed the dirt and the ashes from his hair and eyes and nose and under his nails. He didn't even want to think where else it might have crawled in. Dean sat on the edge of the river and looked at him shaking his head.

"I will not make you soup."

"As if you can make soup."

"Some day I might let you know."

When Jensen came out, shaking and mostly purple and with the worst attack of shrinkage ever witnessed by a man still alive enough to care, Dean laughed his balls off, but then held him close and rubbed his arms and legs until he could breathe again.

Dean was still filthy and smelly and it sort of defeated the purpose of Jensen's bath, but he was also warm and cuddly and that suited Jensen just fine.

"We can't go back to my parents with you reeking like this."

"I'll tell them you set me on fire."

"Please don't scar my father."

Dean's laughter shook him and they got up to leave, and Jensen had a really strange moment when he saw Dean completely dressed and himself standing there totally naked.

A moment in which he should have felt vulnerable, but Dean's steady look made him feel strong instead.

He put on the winded (though not at all _clean_ ) clothes and sat pressed to Dean the whole drive home, still slightly frozen.  


 _Of course_ Jensen's entire family saw them coming in, looking like they came back from a mud wrestling match. At least Dean looked like that. Jensen was just hot and slightly wet. Also a bit more bowlegged than usual cause _somehow_ his boxers got wet in the river. _Strange._ Dean's smirk was directed at Jensen's crotch and of course Josh was the one to notice.

"What have you boys been up to? Jensen, I didn't see you look like that since you were ten."

"Yeah, sorry ma, we went by the river and sorta got soaked. We'll just go change ok?"

"Sure, then come on down, lunch is almost ready."

Lunch. This day flew by without notice. And tomorrow they'd be going back to Vancouver, Jensen had to start shooting on Tuesday.

Or, Dean thought, Jensen would be going to Vancouver. He probably needed to go home for a while. They hadn't moved in together after all. Jensen probably didn't expect him to be there all the time. But he could try a long distance relationship. Totally.

When he wasn't with Jensen he hunted a lot more anyway, traveled a lot. He couldn't be there all the time anyway. It still stung a bit. He wondered how long Jensen would be into the relationship once he had time to step back and think.

He told Jensen that night. It took him a while to convince Jensen he wasn't angry at him, just, they didn't live together, and sadly their places were a few states apart. It had to be done. It was the beginning of a relationship. They'd talk on the phone and text and the rest. Jensen wasn't happy. That night he clung to Dean until morning, never once turning around or breaking away, even deep in sleep.

**

Two weeks. Two fucking weeks of receding messages and awkward phone calls; stinky bars full of women hitting on him that he didn't even _want_ to touch; biting Sam's head off until he practically moved in with Shelly just to stay away from him; playing it cool until Jensen had nothing left to talk to him about because every topic was shot down in the name of aloofness and carelessness.

Two hunts with bruises and cuts Jensen wasn't there to panic about, so Dean lied and Jensen knew he lied and both those calls ended abruptly.

Two more episodes Jensen did with those assholes that weren't worth to lick his shoes and Jensen lying himself that everything was fine even when Dean heard how tired he was. He never called him on it.

A week ago, when the first episode aired, Dean actually watched. He liked Alec. A lot.

He liked Jensen more.

He didn't know how to fix this. He didn't know how to give everything to someone and be away from them. He hated that he had to be away from Sam to be with Jensen, but he knew how to make things work with Sam, he could balance Sam, now, when he learned to balance himself somewhat.

But he missed Jensen like a torn limb. It shouldn't have been like that. So strong and inevitable. It left Dean weak. Vulnerable. Needing.

He sat in the car looking at his cell phone, hoping to get some answers from the stupid screen.

__

_“Jensen”_ the screen said.

Whoa... Freaky. It took him a while to figure out it was Jensen calling him before he answered, almost warily.

"Hey."

"Hey."

__

_Awesome start._

"I need to tell you something."

Dean swallowed. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Look… I was out last night. With some of the crew. Got a little bit wasted."

Dean knew where this was going. He relaxed back into his seat and just took deep breaths.

"This girl came up to me. Started hitting on me, you know. And… I wanted to say to her “No, I'm in a relationship”. But I didn't feel like I was. I felt alone. More alone then when I was actually single."

Dean pressed his forehead against the glass and tried to not smash the phone.

"I... I miss you Dean. I can't be here alone. I know, I'm an actor, and I'm supposed to be prepared for a life of going away from the people I like, but you know, if we were five years into this relationship and I was getting sick of your mess and boxers on the couch, yeah, a month away filming would be just what I need to start missing you. But we're not. And it's not. I need you here. Dean. I'm sorry, I know it's not fair to ask you. You don't have to live with me, but just... fuck. I don't want to ask. I don't. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

Jensen was babbling but Dean's forehead slipped down the window and he smiled like a crazy person listening to the voice on the other side apologize for giving him the world.

"So I'm guessing you didn't sleep with her?"

Jensen stuttered in his rant. "What? No! What t'hell, man! Is that what you think of me?!"

Dean's thumb was petting the wheel as he listened to the outrage in Jensen's voice. "So no sex for two weeks huh? That's got to suck."

"Dean, we've been apart for two weeks you know exactly how much it su... unless, did you... um..."

"No. But I'm gonna have some in a few minutes."

Jensen choked on air on the other side.

"If you open the door that is. If not, I'm gonna give your neighbors something to look at."

"What?"

"Open the door, Jensen."

Dean ended the call and got out of the car. Vancouver was humid and cold, something that could almost be called rain was soaking his leather jacket as he walked to the building.

Jensen's hands were twisted in his jacket and pulling him in before he even reached the apartment. "You fucking bastard." Jensen's lips were raging over his, teeth pulling and bruising and Dean let him because yeah, he was.

**

Dean was lying on the bed, belly down, naked, with Jensen equally naked on his knees between Dean’s spread legs.

His skin was on fire, pain coursing from every spot Jensen bit into mercilessly. Which is pretty much all he was doing for the last half an hour. Angry bites down Dean’s back and arms and ass. Some of them would bruise, he would be marked as Jensen’s canvas by the next day.

Finally he felt Jensen’s breathing ease, his lips soothe the reddened skin, wet tongue lick apologies over it.

Dean began to relax but didn’t move. Somehow he knew it was time for Jensen to take what he wanted, and Dean was more than willing to give.

Jensen kissed a path up Dean’s spine and nuzzled and nibbled behind his ear. His hands held Dean’s hips down as he started slowly grinding his cock against Dean’s ass.

“I want you.”

“You have me.”

Jensen seemed to slow down at that. His hips were moving slower, his lips were more teasing than touching, and Jensen _knew_ that wasn't enough.

One finger tapped at his lips.

"Get it as wet as you want it to be when it comes in you."

Dean took a deep breath to stop himself from humping the mattress just on the sound of Jensen's voice and sucked the finger in, getting it as wet as he possibly could.

He was cold when Jensen's body stopped covering him.

Then sharp little teeth nipped on the sensitive inside of his thighs and he groaned deeply in the pillow.

Jensen's hands spread his thighs more open and the finger started circling his hole, slowly adding pressure until it was through the first ring of muscles. Dean relaxed and controlled his breathing while teeth and nails scraped his thighs, back of the knees and down the calves.

The finger was steadily moving deeper, but he barely felt it when Jensen's teeth bit into the soft flesh on the back of his knee, making him moan and push his growing cock into the sheets and up on the finger.

Jensen smiled and licked a path up the inner thigh. Dean felt something silky and _oh god_ slightly prickly on the back of his balls and what the hell was Jensen using? It was moving and tickling, causing him to whimper and rut into it and _fuck no way_! Jensen laughed though, so yes, it probably was.

"Getting of on my hair Dean? I'll be sure to let my stylist know."

Dean exhaled on a breathy laughter and then groaned nice and loud when Jensen's finger slipped all the way in and his tongue pressed behind his balls.

"Fuck fuck Jensen oh Jesus..."

The finger was too dry and his nerves were being torn between pleasure and pain before Jensen told him to get the lube. Actually told him to move and do something other than push back on the finger stretching him open.

"Fucker."

"Hopefully."

With slick fingers Jensen spread him open, too fucking slowly, like he knew, but he couldn't have, so Dean just gritted his teeth and pushed back when those fingers hit his prostate, making him bite into the pillow and growl around it.

He was fucking back and forth between fingers and the bed, enjoying that feeling as much as the anticipation of what was coming next, when Jensen pulled out, almost all the way out, just the tips of his fingers holding him open. He spread those fingers causing tears to well in Dean's eyes before the muscle slipped on the lube and closed pushing them out.

"Bastard."

"Mmm."

Jensen moved up the bed then, put a few pillows to the headboard and sat back to them. Dean blinked surprised for a moment, then Jensen pulled him up too, to kneel over his thighs, back to chest. Jensen's hand pushed his back to bend him a bit, before a pressure that wasn't a finger touched his hole. Dean tried breathing deeply to calm down and not have Jensen freak out now of all times.

But, while the feeling wasn't the best in the world, muscles straining to open to the unfamiliar intrusion, skin stretched around Jensen's cock, which suddenly seemed like the biggest one in the universe, the feeling of fullness, and knowing it was Jensen, made it better, made him relax and let it happen.

Dean knew sex. It went - foreplay, penetration, orgasm. Rules to live by. But Jensen obviously sucked at sex because he didn't know the rules. And once he was in, all the way in, _balls touching balls in_ , he didn't start the fucking that would lead to the orgasm. No, he barely moved, stilling even Dean when he tried.

He pulled Dean up, slowly, carefully, to sit on his thighs with legs spread wide open, causing the cock to go even deeper, too deep, _fuck, pain._ Dean breathed deeply again and Jensen let him get used to it. Let Dean lean against his chest and started touching him.

Nails on his nipples, a finger dipping in and out of his navel like he was fucking it. When Dean arched Jensen bit into his ear lightly and laved it, then one hand came down to cup the balls, pull them and press them up, making his cock twitch, making him try to move but all he got were circular motions that spread him open, relaxed his ass completely, and fuck, yes, that was an amazing feeling.

His thoughts were swimming, there wasn't a nerve in his body he wasn't aware of as Jensen's fingers and mouth caressed him, loved him.

"So beautiful, so strong, so fucking mine."

Jensen's words where whispers in his ear, arms holding him so close he felt Jensen's heartbeat on his back.

__

_Yeah, I am._

Then Jensen lifted his own knees, spreading Dean completely open, and one of his hands went down, under Dean's balls and lower, touching the stretched skin where Jensen opened him.

Dean sobbed.

"Shhh. This is so amazing Dean, should have done this ages ago. _You_ 're amazing. Taking me so good, stretched around me like second skin, can you feel it?"

And yeah, Dean felt everything. The pulsing of Jensen's cock inside him, the air Jensen was breathing on his neck, fingers... everywhere, soft hairs on Jensen's legs tickling his own... everything.

Jensen's hips finally _please_ started slow movements up and down, too small and too slow to mean anything, but there was friction, there was possibility of more.

"Why didn't you tell me, Dean?"

__

_I didn't know... I didn't know... Oh fuck please..._

Dean would have begged, but breathing was such a chore he didn't know how to gather strength for anything else.

"Why didn't you tell me? Did you think I wouldn't know?" Jensen's voice was a raspy whisper now, Dean could only hope that meant soon.

His words weren't making any sense, but his fingers, oh fuck he knew what they were doing, drawing soft circles around the slit on Dean's cock, bringing the precome to his lips and sucking it loudly just next to Dean's ear, drawing another sob/moan.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice you shaking? Why, Dean?"

"Please!" There, he said it.

He tried clenching his ass but the pain was new and he flinched, causing Jensen's fingers on his cock to stop moving. Jensen's other hand went up his torso and brutally twisted his nipple, even as the hip movements increased another fraction. _Yes, yes._

"Don't hurt yourself."

Jensen turned his face with slippery fingers and their lips met in a wet kiss, Jensen sucking on Dean's tongue with the same passion and force he does on his dick.

When the kiss broke he looked at Jensen's eyes full of concern and passion and lust and love. All the words Jensen was saying suddenly rushed back to his head and _aw shit_ he looked away. But Jensen forced him to look back.

"Why?" Jensen's hand closed around his dick and started pumping it in the same slow motion his hips were working in.

"I don't know."

"No one else?"

"No." His voice was almost broken.

"Just me."

Dean wanted to confirm but Jensen's thumb collected more precome from the slit, this time though he fed it to Dean, watched him lick the thumb clean then kissed him, sharing the taste.

Dean was starting to ache in places he didn't know had anything to do with sex.

"Do you want this, Dean?"

"God, Jensen, of course." There was outrage as well as pleading in that statement, he knew.

And Jensen's fingers held him for another kiss. "I want to watch you when I fuck you."

Dean nodded, anything, as long as there was actual fucking and not this torture.

Jensen must have sensed it because he moved closer and whispered "Don't worry, I can't take any more of this either."

And Dean honestly wanted to weep in relief.

\--

Dean lay on his back with his legs spread open and Jensen had to bend for a second and lick at the pretty red hole that was making him feel so good. Dean shivered around him.

He knelt between Dean's legs and lifted one on his shoulder, scratching his stubble on the sensitive thigh before lining up his dick and entering him again, slowly, but with more certainty this time. All the way in, watching Dean arch for him.

_Just for me._

When he was in, as much as he could go, he leaned over Dean, bending his leg even more, opening him winder, and started the slow fucking, his eyes never leaving Dean's face.

The heat and the fist tight clench around his dick were heaven. He wanted to fuck it raw and hard and fast and he wanted it never to end. But he kept his hips at a slower rhythm, even when Dean started begging, until he felt like speeding up was an option, until he knew for sure Dean felt nothing but pleasure.

Dean was beautiful like this, his muscles straining, his teeth biting the flush lip until Jensen's thumb made him stop and start moaning and gasping loudly instead. He wanted to hear, to know. First, he was Dean's first.

The sounds were spurring him on, making him fuck harder, deeper, rubbing the prostate more often than not but not nearly enough for Dean to come yet. When Dean's hand went for his dick Jensen stopped him, _not yet, not yet_ he shook his head.

He let go of Dean's leg and let it lie on his hip. Dean lifted the other one and hugged him closer with them. Still on his knees, it was a stretch to come to Dean's lips but he tried anyway, small bites and mixed moans. His head fell on Dean's chest and found the delicate skin of a scar, licked it like it was candy while Dean fucked himself on his cock.

He shuffled a bit and changed the angle and now, yes, he was passing the prostate on every move and Dean was shouting a constant moan, covered only partially by Jensen's own. Jensen's hand finally closed around his dick as his stabs became erratic. He came first, Dean following, spilling into Jensen's fist as soon as the slurping noises of Jensen's come easing the way for his cock were heard.

Jensen had just enough strength to slip out carefully before he fell on the bed next to Dean. Strong arms came around him, pulled him in for a kiss and he laid his head on Dean's shoulder for a minute before he got up to clean them and threw the wet towels towards bathroom.

He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Dean as he rested, touching with trembling fingers lips that were curving into a smile and lashes shadowing his cheeks.

"I love you."

\--

One.

The number of people Dean remembered saying they loved him. Sam.

He felt Jensen's fingers on his lips, slight tremors tickling him.

He clenched his jaw, feeling like his insides were being ripped apart. Grabbing Jensen's fingers he moved them from his face and sat up, finally opening his eyes but making sure he only stares at the wall. His thumb rubbed his lower lip and he tried to breathe.

Minutes passed. He couldn't form a thought. He knew there were people out there who loved him, for various reasons. Not a lot of them, not alive anyway, but Bobby and Ellen came to mind. He knew his mother loved him. He knew his father loved him too, the one knowledge to top all others.

But his life was like a closed circle. Hunters and their families, the things they hunted, and people they saved. They were constantly changing but always within the same circle.

Jensen didn't belong there. His family, his friends, they all belonged to the outside world, the one that only collided with theirs in the last category, victims.

But Sam stepped out. Not even minding an occasional look back, like it was the most normal thing in the world, two circles melting into each other. And Dean followed, and became all the stronger for it.

It wasn't the feeling. He could handle Jensen loving him. He could love him back. It was just the words. Hearing them. Saying them.

Words meant nothing. People could say them and still stab you in the back. Or never say them and end up dying for you. Following that logic, he should have no problem saying them back. But he did. Because if he even thought about it his throat would constrict and breathing became an issue all over again.

He had no idea how long had passed since Jensen said those words to him. He didn't even try to reach for Dean after his hand was forcibly removed. Dean looked at him from the corner of the eye and saw him looking out the big window next to the bed.

He had to explain. If not say it back then at least give a reason. Give something. Anything.

"When I was four, my mother was killed by a demon in Sammy's nursery." He didn't have a clue where those words came from or why. But they drew Jensen's attention and the other man was looking at him now with curiosity and sadness. Dean really wished they weren't both completely naked for this conversation.

Minutes trickled as Dean told his life to someone for the first time ever.

He talked about Sammy and the necklace he gave him. Realizing that Jensen never even saw it. Dean took it off with the shirt and kept it under it when he was clothed. Jensen took it and held it while Dean talked, probably in place of touching Dean, who knew he looked distant now. Talked about the day Sam went for college and the day he came back.

He talked about his father and the trainings and the protection he always gave before love. But not about that day in the hospital, about the reasons his father died. Jensen could know, but Dean couldn't say it. About the first hunt he took him on and the first hunt he let him go on alone.

He talked about killing the demon, but not about Sammy dying, and not about making the deal. In his darkest hours, Dean sometimes remembered those times. But not on a normal day, certainly not on a day someone said they loved him.

In the end he talked about the life he had before, with Sam, Impala and the road ahead, and the life he made with the pink house and Sam's books and a parking spot for the car, that no one else ever used.

When he fell silent they were both in their boxers, Jensen leaning on the headboard and Dean sitting by his knees, their legs touching only by accident.

Jensen leaned forward and pressed sticky lips to Dean's dry ones.

"Thank you."

"I'm sorry..."

Jensen shook his head and smiled. "No."

Their lips met again and it was both sweet and sad as Jensen held him close, giving him everything. For the first time in his life Dean was taking more than he was giving. Of all the feelings that awoke in him, the strangest was a whisper of happiness at knowledge that someone was trying, for him. Someone though he was worth the love and the pain that came with it.

\--

Jensen spent hours practicing the piece. His fingers were in pain and cramping and his ears hated him but he _owned_ the fucking thing. "Etude in E major" by Chopin in two weeks. _In your face professor Tesner_!

Now all he had to do was find some ice to put his hands into, so tomorrow when he has to perform in front of the cameras he doesn't get carpal tunnel and end up crippled for life.

He came home to an empty apartment and felt his joy diminish somewhat, but Dean called earlier and said he'd be home today and didn't even stutter when he said it. All in all it was a good day.

**

He was in the shower, daydreaming, perversely, about meeting his elementary school teacher and playing the Chopin for him, the man realizing his mistake at calling him a talentless klutz and begging Jensen for the privilege of being his tutor but Jensen walking away with a smirk and some classical background music.

Alec would be having a serious angst-fest this week, flashbacks, lost love, battle of evil versus good within him. Jensen was thriving. He loved the cocky kick-ass Alec. But _nothing_ could beat the thrill of doing a heartbreaking emotional scene and absolutely _knowing_ he pulled it off.

He heard the door close in the other room and wanted to jump out but thought better of it before he broke his neck.

"Dean!"

_"Hey!"_

"C'mhere!"

 _"Gimme a sec!_ "

"Fine."

Jensen grumbled and pouted as he stood under the spray waiting, flicking drops of water from his fingers. He was sure his smile made him look like a mindless fool when Dean opened the glass door of the shower, still completely dressed and looking a bit tired but sporting the exact same smile.

Jensen pulled him under the shower, boots and jeans and shirt, the whole package, lips crashing and tongues tangling, tasting. Jensen's fingers were in Dean's hair and he felt the mud dissolve under the water, didn't care.

He was standing naked, tips of his feet over Dean's boots and Dean's wet clothes scraping every inch of his body. It was perfect.

Dean's hand slid down his ass and pulled him in closer, making him moan into Dean's mouth until neither could breathe any more.

Dean started to take his shirt off but Jensen batted his hands away and stripped him himself. He threw the wet clothes out of the shower, but considered leaving the boots on until Dean quirked a brow at him. A look that was actually Jensen's but Dean stole it without a second thought.

"You never let me have any fun."

"I'm I tyrant, I know."

Jensen had a flash to all the ways he could make that actually fun before he remembered he could have the real thing now and not the fantasy, so he should really use this opportunity.

He knelt down to undo Dean's boots but was distracted by the beautiful cock dangling in front of his face when he pulled the jeans down as far as he could. He smiled wickedly at the idea he got.

"I'll let you fuck my face if you keep them on."

Dean would have been a horrible tradesman. And Jensen _should_ have been doing this professionaly because he actually got the damned jeans off without removing the boots.

As he took the cock into his mouth and let his tongue taste and remember all the right places to slide against and press into, his hands wandered round Dean’s boots, touching the leather, the metal, thumb rubbing the worn out husky bits. After a while he looked up, saw Dean switching from looking at his mouth to the boots and Jensen’s fingers caressing them. When their eyes met Jensen just angled his head a bit and opened his mouth. Dean got the invitation. He held Jensen’s head with both hands and fucked his mouth slowly, taking his time. Jensen was holding on to his thigh with one hand, the other one still touching the used leather. His nails bit into it when Dean held his head tight, nose rubbing into the coarse hair.

Dean’s hips were still slow and Jensen let go of the leg and took his own cock in his hand. He looked up slightly embarrassed by what he was thinking but the lust in Dean’s face wiped away any shyness. He shuffled closer making Dean look at what he was doing and when Jensen pressed the head of his dick against the leather Dean groaned and threw his head back fucking into Jensen’s mouth with abandon.

At the first taste of come on his tongue Jensen came too, rubbing against a boot and coming on it.

Dean pulled him and smiled his way into a kiss. “You’re fucking amazing.”

**

“How was the hunt?”

“Scarring.” Dean’s voice was dry and Jensen took a better look at him.

“What happened? Are you ok? I didn’t notice any…”

“No, not like that. Mentally scarring. Life scarring.”

Jensen’s brow now flickered. “Do tell.”

“The hunt was inToledo, Ohio. Werewolf. Really a simple job, silver bullet and you’re done. But when I actually came there and located the beast, it was busy doing a photo shoot.”

“Um?” Jensen was starting to giggle on the inside at Dean’s annoyance.

“When I first came into the town I was told there’s this guy who’s into the supernatural. I thought he might be a hunter or family of a hunter, so when I met him, I gave him my real name to see if he’d react. Yeah right. He’s just another little freak with a camera, and was of absolutely no help.

But, when I finally found the werewolf, there he was, Eric somethingorother, standing still with a camera as the thing is going right at him and he’s all… excited. So I save his life, which I might never forgive myself for, and he points the damn thing in my face and starts shooting off questions. It this your job? Do you work for the government? Is the truth out there? I felt sorry for the fucking werewolf, god knows how long he interrogated it before the thing decided to kill him to shut him up.”

Jensen did laugh this time, and Dean shot him an incredulous look.

“It’s not funny!”

“Yeah, it actually kinda is.” He kissed Dean’s pout into submission.

“Well, he didn’t think it was funny when I mentioned demons. Somehow thought of hell always has people stuttering. And I burned his camera.” Dean’s smile was smug satisfaction.

“All in all a good day at the office, huh honey?”

Dean laughed at him and poked him in the ticklish spot under the ribs. “And what’d you do while I was out saving the world?”

Jensen gave him the evil eye and waved fingers in front of his face.

"I practiced, wanna hear me play?"

Dean's turned into pure agony at those words. Jensen would have been offended, but truthfully, when Dean left five days ago, Jensen sucked beyond belief. Still. "Have some faith in me, dude!"

Dean forced a smile and pecked him on the lips. "Sure honey, go ahead."

Jensen narrowed his eyes at Dean. "Hunnybunny."

"Pumpkin."

"Blossom."

"Dude!"

"Don't start what you can't finish Winchester." His smirk was victorious.

He pulled out the huge Yamaha synthesizer he got just so he could practice for this episode, waited with utmost patience until Dean settled back on the couch, not daring to relax.

Jensen was amazing though. And he knew it. The piece ran flawlessly through his fingers, pain still not cramping them, and by the end of it Dean seemed to be appropriately in awe of him.

"Holy shit Jensen. In just a few days?"

"I rock!"

"You classic."

Jensen giggled and climbed over Dean's thighs on the couch.

"You like?" Now. Jensen _knew_ that was a trick question. There was no way in hell Dean liked the classical piece. And there was no way he didn't like Jensen playing it. They both knew it.

Dean looked at him telling him he's onto his game and picked Jensen's hand up, nibbling on a pad of one finger then licking it like it was delicious. "Yeah, I like."

"Cheater."

"Troublemaker."

Jensen faked embarrassment and Dean laughed at him until their lips crashed together, still smiling, in the sloppiest kiss ever.

Dean pulled him close and rubbed his face on Jensen's chest closing his eyes.

"Tired?"

"Yeah."

Jensen lifted Dean's face just to make sure everything other than that was all right.

Dean knew exactly what he was doing and his lips spread in a loving smile and Jensen kissed the very edge of it.

"Good. Then let's get you some sleep."

**

Jensen had more reading and memorizing to do but he sat in bed with Dean to do it.

The other man was pressed against him, his hand over Jensen's legs and his face pressed against... well, Jensen's ass actually, but Jensen preferred to think of it as his thigh. So much more dignity for both of them.

Jensen's fingers were in Dean's hair or on his back all the time, light scratch of nails soothing the cramped muscles.

He looked down at the scarred back and let his fingers touch the sensitive skin on few of them.

The bullet wound was still relatively new. Dean had said that's why it was so red, one day it would look like the one on the other side of the shoulder. Basically, not all that much prettier.

Thin white lines, barely visible, below one shoulder blade, were made by something called wendigo. Jensen now knew what it was, but still had trouble wrapping his mind about it.

He could maybe accept ghosts. Dean told him about them, why they stayed, how they behaved, how to get rid of them, and how Dean or Sam had no idea where they went.

But monsters, wendigos, vampires, werewolfs, fucking _demons_... yeah, he was still struggling to accept those.

But Dean had taught him about salt and fire, silver bullets and consecrated iron, holy water and devil's traps. Jensen's inner nerd was soaking up all the knowledge, and Jensen's not so inner Dean-lover fell about ten times more realizing all that knowledge was hidden inside Dean.

Jensen never thought Dean was stupid or unintelligent, but didn't really see him as having all that much depth either. Now he knew though.

Dean could pull apart a car, a weapon, a phonograph, a walkman, and put them back together in the same, better or completely different state.

Jensen had no idea what an EMF meter was or how it worked, just that Dean had made one.

He had hundreds of pages worth of information - monsters and demons and local legends and spirits, how they became, what they could do, how to get rid of them - stored in his brain.

His job was to see what no one else saw, and make patterns where everyone else saw coincidences.

Jensen smiled and turned back to his script. Yeah, Dean was the full package. Like the vicious, ugly scars that marred his perfect body, he was good, smart, intelligent and selfless, with a good dose of insecure, stubborn, blind and frustrating thrown in for balance. Jensen loved it all. Even if sometimes he wanted to pummel him.

**

There were many, many reasons Jensen could think of why Dean shouldn't have gone going on set with him. Not the least of which was that Michael might try to kill him.

"I wanna see you work, prettyboy."

"You know, you keep saying we look the same, you do realize that makes you pretty also?"

Dean winked at him "Yup."

_Forgot who you were dealing with?_

He smiled and nodded and so it was that Dean was on location with him now.

They were doing the scene in which Alec teaches his future love interest how to play piano, in a huge house they rented just for that purpose, somewhere outside Vancouver.

Jensen had decided Dean should come on this day mostly because this scene was just with him, the girl and the dad, no Jessica or Michael; they shot their bits earlier in the week and took off, since this episode was all about Alec. Jensen felt pride flush him knowing the fans liked his character so much the writers were forced to delve into his past a bit.

He was practicing the scene with Meghan when he noticed Dean standing slightly slumped behind the cameras. He frowned wondering what's wrong when Dean's eyes opened and burned into his. _The hell... is he jealous?_ Jensen couldn't figure it out so he just turned around, pressed the glasses Alec needed for this con higher up his nose, and started from the top.

The scene took several takes, camera angles and a few mess-ups, but then the lighting had to be changed so when the dad comes in he doesn't look like the shadow man, and Jensen could take a rest.

He looked around for Dean but he was nowhere to be found. The director came up to him to say basically, "I've seen the way you practiced this scene, it was amazing, now please change everything." and Jensen sighed as he nodded, because that was just too typical.

He went to the hall to look for Dean and passed a few rooms on his search. The house was really amazing. Old money and antique furniture but kept in perfect state.

Suddenly he was pulled into a room and the door shut closed behind him. Before he had time to panic he recognized the tongue slipping into his mouth. The kiss was fast and brutal and next he knew Dean was pushing him down, on his knees, eyes burning and pleading at the same time and Jensen, confused as he was, knelt and nuzzled against Dean's cock, realizing Dean was already rock hard.

_No, really, what the fuck?_

But before he could ask Dean was unzipping his jeans and pushing against Jensen's mouth.

\--

Dean leaned his forearms against the wood and bent his head to look down at Jensen.

Light was crap and Jensen was stuck between him and the door making the shadows almost hide his face. Almost, but not completely.

Dean's cock was pulsing and he pushed against Jensen's lips, but Jensen grabbed his dick hard and looked up at him sternly.

"What gives, Dean?"

_Are you blind?!?_

Dean tried to move his hips but Jensen wasn't budging so he managed to squeeze out, "Glass's." before he tried for another push.

Jensen lifted his free arm now and touched the rim of the glasses like he'd forgotten they were there and smiled wickedly at Dean before letting go and opening his mouth. Dean surged without pity and got as deep in as he could, warmth enveloping his dick making him whine silently into the wood.

 _God. Nerdy was never meant to be so sexy._ Dean had no idea how a bit of wire and some glass could make someone look so filthy. Like perfection he just had to spoil, control he had to break.

He held Jensen's head so it wouldn't hit the door and fucked the beautiful pout raw. Jensen's eyes were teary but he wasn't trying to move away so Dean just held on and slid as deep as he could, before he felt Jensen's throat opening to take him. _Oh god yes_.

Muscles clamped and fluttered around the head and Jensen's nose was pressed into his pubes, glasses cooling his skin. He shook as the feeling spread through his entire body. Dean let him take one short breath and let himself get another look of the face he was fucking before he pushed in again.

A few more deep thrusts and Dean was out, stroking his cock and coming on Jensen's face and glasses until his knees couldn't hold him any more and he knelt down in front of Jensen.

He wanted to come again when he saw the come-spattered face and glass, freckles standing up on the flushed skin and one tear mixing with the come on the cheek.

He shuffled closer and framed Jensen's face in his palms. He wished he could take a photo... _this, this was broken perfection_. He licked the come and the tear away, sharing with Jensen, licked even the glasses clean before he took them off.

His thumbs were drawing soothing circles on Jensen's cheekbones and he kissed the hurt lips gently.

"Are you ok?"

"You're insane." Jensen's voice was shaking.

"M'sorry." _Liar._

"No you're not."

Dean had to smile. He helped Jensen up and to the bathroom in the next room, washed his face and the damned glasses clean, made sure he didn't stain anything else, and sent him back in front of the cameras. He's gonna love watching this episode.

It was almost a week later that Jensen came home after a shoot, ordered takeout and they sat to watch the game, hokey, _because they were in_ _Canada_ _and men damn it_! and started fidgeting. And playing with his food. That was just wrong.

Dean took the carton of abused food from Jensen's fingers and set it aside. "What's wrong?"

Jensen bit into his lip and looked around. "I um... I did something."

"Ok?"

Knowing Jensen it could be anything from robbing a bank, _(It was totally by accident, Dean! They gave me more and I didn't count and then it was too late to take it back but then I forgot and... Oh my god I'm a criminal!)_ to stepping on an ant _(There was an ant in the kitchen. There was an ANT in the kitchen Dean! Stop leaving your junk around or I will step on you next!)_. Dean was threading carefully.

Jensen got up abruptly and ran to the room. He came out holding something behind his back. Then he just stood in front of Dean and threw it on the couch next to him.

Dean smiled a slow grin and his hand went to unbutton Jensen's jeans. He pulled the flaccid cock out and started lapping on the head, hugging Jensen around his thighs. Jensen's eyes were huge on his face.

"You're unbelievable!"

Dean gave him his proud face and watched Jensen roll his eyes, then picked up the glasses from where Jensen threw them and pushed them up at him.

Later Dean held a mostly passed out Jensen on top of him as they recovered on the couch. Jensen was sticky all over and smelled like come and Dean. It wasn't the nicest smell in the world but it filled every cell in Dean's body and he didn't mind at all breathing it in. His come and scent on Jensen.

After the first time Jensen said he loved him, he seemed to be trying not to freak Dean out. He only said it sometimes during sex, and it made Dean come ahead of schedule more than once.

Jensen wasn't pushing to hear them back either. Dean hoped his actions would speak loud enough because he really wasn't sure he could ever say the words without choking.

It was stupid. He loved Jensen. From his ridiculous freckles to the emotional tantrums on glass stains, he loved it all. But every time he opened his mouth to say it, something else would come out.

Dean combed through the sleeping man's hair. He would just have to show him. Jensen would know. He always knew.


	2. Chapter 2

Jensen watched weeks pass by with a joyous kind of wonder. Life still wasn’t perfect. Michael and Jessica spent most of the time fighting and when they weren’t it only meant they were avoiding each other. Not very productive for a TV couple. This of course meant that their characters, Max and Logan, were losing their passion and there was whisper of Alec becoming the new love interest. It was a thought that had Jensen gagging into the mirror every Wednesday morning. _Was this the day they would bring him the script with “Alec leans in. Alec kisses Max?”_ He would spend that morning kissing Dean extra long just to make sure he can still remember the taste if the unimaginable should happen.

__

Vancouver was still cold and his friends were still far away, but somehow it all mattered less than before.

Because now he’d wake up most mornings warmed by Dean’s arms around him and Dean’s breath in his hair.

Whenever he came home nervous there was always someone to shout at who’d shout back until they’d fall on the bed or the couch or the floor and Jensen was allowed to bite as long as he needed to calm down. Only when he calmed down would Dean make love to him. _Cause that’s what they did now._ After the first few tragic events Dean made rules about nervous sex. Mainly, that there’d be none.

Angry sex and make up sex and even bad sex were preferable to nervous sex. And Jensen agreed mostly because there is only so many times you can miss the hole before you cause yourself some serious injury.

Some mornings though he’d wake up cold. And he would know Dean has left on a hunt during the night. Kissed him in his sleep and sneaked out so he doesn’t have to say goodbye.

Jensen hated those mornings. If he didn’t have work to go to, he would spend the entire day in bed, waiting for time to pass so Dean’s return came closer.

He only thought once of what would happen if Dean didn’t come back. If the conversation of the night before was the last thing they said to each other. He threw up on the floor and spent hours mopping it. He made sure from then on they never went to sleep angry at each other, and that they kissed before sleep like they were still new at this, no matter how exhausted they were.

He tried talking to Dean, but gave up at the first sight of the stubbornness appearing on his face and talked instead with Sam, about helping with hunting. Doing research, cleaning guns, anything. But he was banned from the guns by Dean and to do proper research he needed years of background or hours of free time to learn. His job was reduced to waiting for Dean and being there when he was needed.

Bloody bandages and clothes, scars with bad stitches and infected wounds became his enemy instead. He learned to close scars better than most surgeons in the world. He found best ways to keep wounds clean and learned to use gauze like some people do pencils. He watched scars appear and disappear. Some would stay for a long time and he would kiss them over and over again for days or weeks, pleading with them to go away until only a tiny line was left, and he learned not to fight those.

He had made his peace, more or less, with the fact that he will probably never hear Dean say he loves him back. It took a while, but whatever tingle of hope was left was silent enough that it didn’t bother him any more. Dean showed his love with the strength of a hurricane. Jensen thought it should be too much, the touches and glances, overwhelming presence, the way the room would breathe with Dean when he walked in. But Jensen loved it. How Dean was always there when he turned around, watching from the corner of his eye. It made him feel safe and protected but not small and weak.

He knew Chris laughed at him sometimes, when Dean was away with Sam or on a hunt, and Jensen was in a bar with Chris and Steve, drinking just a bit too much, he would forget and start to panic. He would look around and blurt out he’d lost his Dean, and Chris would laugh into his face not helping at all. Steve understood though. He would remind him and smile at him like he was really happy Jensen finally found someone worth panicking over.

His grandmother asked about Dean a lot. He didn’t tell her the truth, but he though she might suspect it anyway. She never said anything, and he never wanted to, but she stopped asking when he will settle down with a nice girl soon after he said Dean and his brother would be spending Christmas with them.

\--

Shelly's parents were divorced. Which in short meant any holiday with either of her parents was pure hell of accusations, financial debates and unfulfilled expectations.

That was why she decided the better option was going to her boyfriend's brother's boyfriend’s family dinner for Christmas. In Texas. With a set of rules of what's ok to say in front of Jensen's parents and siblings but not the rest of the family, what's ok to say to Jensen's parents but not the siblings or the rest of the family, topics she absolutely under any circumstances can't bring up in front of anyone “ _Except for the grandmother. Oh, that's right, she knows. But not about the other thing.”_ and a side list of bits about Sam she can't tell to Dean or Jensen under penalty of tickle-torture and/or two weeks of moping-Sam.

Clearly, she needed someone to make smart decisions _for her_.

Sitting at the table now though, looking at them, she realized that as long as she didn't actively ruin their little game, nothing would _ever_ go wrong.

Sam and Dean twisted lies and morphed them with the truth with speed and accuracy that spoke of years of practice and scared her just a little.

Jensen knew when to join in or derail the conversation so magnificently even she would sometimes forget what the original topic was.

The three of them played Jensen's family like professionals handling fine tuned instruments.

Jensen's parents treated them like they were a part of the family, whatever awkwardness there might have been they fixed with their easy acceptance. Even the secrets they were all keeping didn’t stop this from being the best holiday she had ever had. She just wasn’t sure if that said more about her or the day.

After the dinner she sat next to Sam and leaned on his shoulder. She only found out what he used to do, what Dean still did, a couple of weeks ago, by accident and some snooping around. Well, curiosity killed the cat. She ran away and didn’t answer his calls for days, until she finally needed her forgotten documents more than she needed her sanity. Even after she heard the explanation and sort of confession, she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do. She still had trouble relating the gentle nerdy giant to the brutal job and life he used to have. But she was here. Which meant she was willing to give it a shot. Pun and all.

She admired Jensen. One of the reasons why she came back eventually, was that Sam didn't do it any more. No more danger, no more traveling, he chose a different path.

But Jensen... he stayed home every time Dean went hunting. Waited, worried, patched up the wounds and calmed the anger. She doubted she could have done it.

Then again, who knows.

Sam's arm settled around her waist and they laughed quietly watching Dean and Jensen ever so discreetly escape for a few minutes of alone time.

When most of the people left, and only the closest family was in the house, Dean finally sat next to Jensen freely and leaned into him, like she was used to seeing them. They were constantly touching. Nothing special, or lingering, just nudges and affirmations. _I'm here. I'm ok._ It was strange seeing them apart the whole evening, like someone broke a puzzle.

They were incredibly unique. Unless you took a picture. But the acceptance and the love they shared were obvious to anyone who looked at them. She never met them individually, for her they were always Jensen and Dean. She kinda hoped they always will be.

\--

There was a thin layer of ice covering the grass and the branches and rooftops. The moon shone off them making the night sparkle a bluish hue.

Jensen was pushing his frozen hands into Dean’s pockets making him squeak.

“You’re so manly Dean, take me now!” Jensen’s voice was mockingly high and Dean glared at him before he stuffed his own frozen hand down Jensen’s shirt and laughed victoriously at the shrieks.

“Evil.”

Jensen’s pout still had the same effect on him and he shuffled closer on the bench to kiss a freckled ear.

“Are you all right?”

Every time they visited Jensen’s parents that question wore itself out. Deanappreciated the concern, but… no, actually, he just hated it.

“Stop asking me that, Jensen. I will let you know if something’s wrong.”

“No, you won’t. It’s why I ask.”

He pulled a hand around Jensen’s nape and touched their noses together. “You’ll know anyway.”

And Jensen smiled at that because he knew it was true.

From inside the house voices were coming, two families mashing.

Dean was terrified by the sheer domesticity of the day. Knew Sam was even more. Which was why he wasn’t surprised when the front door opened and Sam stepped out on the porch to join them.

“Are you all right?”

Dean almost snickered when Jensen asked but he got a look of warning before he could do anything.

“Yeah,” Sam said, “they are nice. Just a bit overwhelming you know?”

Jensen looked straight at Dean when he said, “Yeah, I do.”

_What was that supposed to mean?_

__

Then Sam looked at him too. “Right.”

“Hey!” He was looking at one then at the other incredulously. “I’m not overwhelming!”

Jensen laughed like that was the best joke he heard all month. “Yeah right, man. You’re like a force of nature, no one can escape you unless they evacuate.”

Dean gave a cocky smile and watched both of them roll their eyes.

He wasn’t all that sure it was a good thing though. Could Jensen evacuate? Did he want to? Is that what he was trying to say?

Jensen and Sam were joking in the background but his thoughts were eating him up. He knew it was stupid, to think Jensen wouldn’t tell him if he wanted an out, that Jensen would be faking all of this, for any stupid reason. _He knew._ He flinched anyway when one of Jensen’s hands moved from his pocket to stay between his thighs.

Dean saw his worried glance but ignored it, replied to something Sam had said instead, let minutes pass before he actually looked back at Jensen and by that point the other man was curled in on himself on his own part of the bench.

If Sam noticed he didn’t comment, and by the time he went to make sure Ackles’ haven’t started a legal process to adopt Shelly, Dean knew he was an idiot and Jensen was pissed at him.

“I can’t keep doing this. I know I said I could but...” Jensen’s words startled Dean. There was a long silence after Sam left them alone and Jensen just stared at the night before he suddenly spoke.

“Doing what?”

“Reaching out, trying, fucking humiliating myself,” Jensen’s lips twisted into an ugly sneer, “just to have you pull away and not trust me at some random sentence or a whim or whatever the hell did it this time.” Jensen scratched his forehead. “You keep your coolness factor and never say anything to diminish it and I keep crawling around you like a lovesick puppy. I _used to_ have pride. Wonder what the hell happened to it.” His face was contorted in, mostly self-directed, rage.

Dean wanted to say any number of things he knew would make the situation better, make Jensen relax back into him. What came out was, “Nobody’s asking you to.”

And Jensen turned to him with this shocked, pained expression before he completely shut down. Dean saw him do it a few times around people he didn’t trust. But he never did it around Dean, not even the first night they met. Still, there it was now, complete coldness on Jensen’s face, nothing on it for Dean to see, no understanding, no love. “True. Nobody is.” He got up and went into the house.

They spent the night carefully avoiding each other. They both knew everyone had noticed, but neither felt like faking everything was perfect. They were the last ones to go to sleep. When everyone else was already gone they went silently into the room they shared, each occupied with their own thoughts.

Jensen looked at the bed they shared like he might try to set it on fire and Dean reached for him, trying to do something to make it better. But Jensen stepped away from his touch and turned to him with icy eyes.

“No, Dean, you don’t get to fuck this better.”

Dean felt himself pull back and close up, his own face a mask now, and Jensen laughed humorlessly. “That’s right, you just lock yourself the fuck away, god forbid you should ever try to make this work.”

Dean felt fury snap to life inside of him.

“Try!?” He grabbed Jensen an pushed him into the wall, his words were silent rage spit out through his teeth. “You think this is easy for me?Meeting your god damn family? Living in your fucking apartment? Being with the same person for months on end just waiting for it to fall apart?”

“No. Obviously it’s fucking hell for you.” Jensen’s voice was still angry but there was so much pain in it now Dean stepped back like someone slapped him.

“Jensen…”

But Jensen shook his head. “I never realized it was all such a bother for you. I mean, I knew it was hard but I thought, I thought it was worth it you know… but… but if being with me is … _months on end_ just waiting for us to crash then…”

Jensen’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he turned towards the door. “I’m gonna go sit outside a bit. I’ll… see you later.”

And Dean let him go because he didn’t know how to handle this.

He sat on the bed, wondering how the hell this night went so wrong.

 _“You’re like the force of nature, no one can escape you.”_ How the hell was that a good thing? How was he supposed to react? And since when did Jensen get pissed at his overreactions? Jensen was always patient, always understood why Dean was freaking out.

 _“Crawling around you like a lovesick puppy.”_ No. No, that’s not what it was about. 'Cause Dean was the one who felt like garbage every time Jensen just stood there and took his rants and smiled as Dean pissed on everything they had, waiting for him to calm down.

 _“I used to have pride.”_ Jesus Jensen, _nobody has more pride than you when you look at me knowing I’m being a stupid fuck and letting me do it anyway because you know nothing can touch us._ Nothing but Dean himself that was.

Dean put his face in his hands. _Such a fuckup Dean. Months on end? Really? Well, it’s not like you go to sleep every night pressed against his back and wake up in the morning just thrilled to see he’s still there. Or that you come back from a hunt and don’t even think if he wants to touch you when you smell like shit and burned bones, just grab him and stick your tongue down his throat and he melts into you like it’s all he’s ever wanted. Yeah, such fucking hardship being with him._

__

Shut up.

He sat there, thinking about what they said, what Jensen wanted from him. If he wanted more than he’d ever admit to Dean. And the answer was “probably.” But he never complained or asked for more, it didn’t even seem to bother him, he was just happy to be with Dean. _Humiliating myself for you._ Never. Fuck but that was the last thing he wanted Jensen to feel. It was supposed to be everything opposite of what Dean stood for.

When he finally calmed down and figured out, mostly, what he had to do, he looked at the clock and saw three hours have passed. Jensen was still outside, or wherever he had gone to.

When he came downstairs he actually expected Jensen to be asleep on the couch, but the room was empty and he went out, to where it all started, and saw Jensen sitting there. Practically frozen, staring into the night with blank eyes like even thinking had become a difficulty.

He crouched down and looked at Jensen, waiting for something, but when nothing happened he just sighed and put and arm on Jensen’s thigh. He ignored the flinch. “Come on, come to bed.” Jensen’s mouth pinched _You don’t get to fuck this better._

“You’ll freeze here, just come on up. I’m not gonna touch you if you don’t want me to.”

“Yeah, Dean. _That’s_ what I want.” His voice was pure wounding sarcasm, but he got up and walked inside, and Dean followed him to the room, not quite surprisingly pissed again, but pushing it down for the sake of… them.

He watched Jensen strip and get under covers, noticed him shiver with the cold and decided he’s a killer and a thief so he might as well be a liar. He lay behind Jensen, under the covers, and pressed himself along Jensen, hugging him and pulling him in on his chest ignoring the stiffness and the protests to stop. He rubbed his nose behind Jensen’s ear and felt him slump. It was supposed to feel like relaxation, but Dean knew for Jensen it felt like defeat.

“You don’t humiliate yourself for me. You keep us together.”

Jensen mumbled something and it took a moment for Dean to understand. _Man but he really fucked up._

__

“Not against my will, c’mon Jensen, you know it’s not like that.”

“No, actually. I don’t. I thought… You know what. It doesn’t matter. Let’s just get through tomorrow and then…”

“And then what?”

Jensen shrugged.

“You know I didn’t mean it.” Before Jensen could open his mouth to speak he rushed on. “Yeah, the family, and the house and the fucking salad with lunch, they freak me out. But you…” he turned Jensen on his back and looked down at him with fingers on his face.

“Yeah. I’m a good fuck, I know _that_ already thank you.” He twisted to turn back but Dean wasn’t having it.

“Fuck would you stop!?”

“Stop what, Dean? Feeling? Trying? Talking about it? Become more like you and smile when I just want to hit something? I can’t. I’m sorry. I wish I could be this block of ice for you to fuck and ignore all the rest, but I just can’t become that.”

Dean knew his fingers had bitten into Jensen’s arms but neither seemed to care.

“Is that what you think I want from you?”

“I don’t know, Dean. I have no idea. Because as you said tonight, nobody’s ever asked me for anything.”

\--

And wasn’t that the fucking truth. Every single time Dean tried to get away Jensen came after him. He didn’t even notice Dean never asked, never said he wanted it. He had just assumed… well. Guess what that made him.

Dean was still hovering over him, and fuck but all Jensen wanted to do was reach out and touch him. 'Cause that was how weak he was. That was how whipped he was. He saw Dean swallow and let go before he slumped to his back next to Jensen and yeah, that was pretty much what he’d expected.Now if only the pain would go away.

“I don’t know how to say it. I don’t know how to say what you want to hear, Jensen.”

“Really? You don’t know how to say ‘I’m sorry, Jensen. You’re not a chore.’ Funny. But you can recite Latin.”

“That’s not what you want to hear.”

Jensen couldn’t believe he heard that right so he turned to check and yeah, Dean’s face was hard in defiance.

“You fucking bastard. Don’t you fucking dare throw it in my face… Jesus fuck.” He was gonna be sick. He tried getting out of the bed but the sheets tangled between his legs and he almost fell out. Strong arms closed around him for the second time that night and pulled him back, lips on his shoulders now and he fought with his arms and legs to be left alone.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I wasn’t throwing it in your face. Don’t. You’ll hurt yourself c’mon, stop fighting.” Dean’s words weren’t calming him down but they were a good reminder that he was probably _not_ getting out of Dean’s arms unless Dean wanted him to. _Great._

He stopped fighting but wouldn’t relax. Couldn’t. He needed to breathe.

“Just let me the fuck go, Dean.”

“I can’t.”

Dean pressed against him even more now, held him down with one leg and arms wrapped around his shoulders.

“You’re not a chore. And you’re not humiliating yourself. Jensen… I freak out. I panic. Over us. Over how much more of me you can take before… well, before this happens. And you, you look at me, and it’s like you’re saying _bring it on, bitch_ to all my doubts and you stand against them like a fucking wall. I don’t know where you get the strength for it, how you can be so sure but please, please don’t let me fuck this up.”

And maybe Jensen just wanted to know that Dean wanted them too, that he wasn’t fighting for something that didn’t exist, because he could feel himself relax, and the pain abate, and he leaned his head back on Dean’s shoulder giving them a moment to breathe.

Jensen didn’t say anything but eventually turned to Dean and let himself be dragged on top of him and smiled at sight of Dean’s frown.

“It’ll be ok.” He pressed his face into Dean’s collar bone and sighed.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Wish you’d trust me though.”

“I do.”

Jensen laughed. “No, no you don’t. But…” Dean’s fingers on his chin stopped him and he was forced to look up.

“I do. Whatever it is that happens, it’s never you I don’t trust.”

Jensen didn’t think that was really true, didn’t see how it could be, but he let it go in exchange for kisses and sleeping on warm chest.

**

Two days later Dean woke him in the middle of the night.

“Hey, you awake?”

“No. What you doin?”

“We’re um… can you wake up please?”

He sat up and looked at Dean, curious.

“A friend of ours is asking for some help, and since Shelly is with her parents Sam and I thought we’d go together. Sam hasn’t seen him in a while. So, I was wondering, if you wanted to come.”

_Would “With you?” be a stupid question? Probably._

__

“Yeah. Sure. Um… what do I need to take?”

“We’ll be there for about two days, just the essentials.”

**

It was unwritten law that Sam rode shotgun but as Jensen sat in the back it was hard to say which one of them looked less comfortable.

“Ok, awkward.” Dean’s sensitivity had Sam and Jensen looking at each other meaningfully, but at least the tension was broken.

He traveled with Dean before, but never like this, through back roads and stopping _only_ on crappy gas stations. When he asked what that was about he was told that they couldn’t afford being caught on any sort of camera, in case something went wrong. That really had him sleeping better.

They pulled into a dirty salvage yard, packed with old cars and car parts and Dean announced they’ve arrived. Jensen’s ass was in serious pain despite the often rest stops, more often than what they usually had if Sam’s annoyance was anything to go by. He stretched when he got out of the car and caught Dean staring at the stripe of skin showing below the shirt. Jensen laughed and cuffed him on the shoulder.

“Don’t perv on me around your brother.”

“Don’t be hot around my brother.”

They snickered together and Sam shook his head and walked away.

When they reached the door of what was once, long, long time ago, probably a beautiful house, Dean was fidgeting like a little boy in a suit. Jensen watched him, amused to no end, so he got to see the incredible, honest smile that appeared on his face when the door opened. An older man slightly grown in beard and with a cap that proudly stated he’s a fisherman was smiling at them and patting Sam on the shoulder.

“Damn boy it’s been a while.”

“Hey Bobby, s’good to see’ya.”

“Hey, Bobby.” Dean was still fidgety but when Jensen’s hand brushed his he calmed down just enough to say, “This is Jensen.”

Bobby eyed him suspiciously but Jensen was used to that by now. “I’m not a shape shifter.” Man’s eyes shot to Dean then and Dean coughed to cover up his laughter. “He’s not.”

Bobby didn’t seem to like their particular brand of humor but Dean didn’t look worried and in the background Sam was making funny faces so Jensen ended up giggling as they shook hands.

The house was… trashed. Jensen was pretty sure there were supposed to be walls inside houses as well. Books alone couldn’t keep the roof up. Though… maybe dust had turned into some sort of indestructible crust. His eyebrow shot high as he looked around and Dean ribbed him to remind him they’re not alone.

“Sorry man but I’ve never seen… so many books outside a library.”

“You should have nerdboy there show you some of the more interesting ones, there’s stuff on demons that’ll make your brain explode.”

Ok, so maybe Jensen’s been slightly obsessed with the whole demons thing. Who could blame him, it was like saying Bible is true, discussion over. But Dean had explained that it wasn't, because even the demons didn’t know if Devil was real.

Jensen nodded happily and was given a beer and Bobby made a move with his hand which Jensen interpreted as “find a place to sit” but there were some corners he was too afraid to look into and everything else was covered with drawings and things he didn’t feel comfortable touching, so he just stood next to Dean leaning on a massive wooden desk.

He started drinking his beer when the words, “So this is your boyfriend.” came from Bobby’s mouth and Jensen laughed at the annoyance on Dean’s face causing him to choke on the liquid. When he was done spurting beer through his nose all three men were looking at him, even Dean stepped back a bit to watch him carefully.

“I would really appreciate something to um… clean my face with?”

Bobby turned and left, hopefully to bring it, and Dean looked around like he’d never been here before. Only Sam had a fit of laughter that had him doubling over by the window.

_Ok. What the hell?_

__

“Sorry man, Bobby puts some holy water in the beer, it makes demons burn and um…”

“Right.” Jensen smiled looking at the bottle. _Hm, that might explain…_

__

“That’s not why the beer is crappy though.” _Or not._

__

Bobby let go of the boyfriend subject for a moment and caught up with Sam while Jensen cleaned himself and Dean rolled steady commentary to everything Sam said until Bobby sent him on a book hunt to another room. Sam pulled out one huge book and opened it on something he thought might be interesting and let Jensen read while they did their work.

When he asked if he could help Bobby actually gave him books to look through for something that might help them. They were looking for a particular kind of demon, it moved around a lot, and without any obvious pattern. It would possess a body and use it for two days tops, going around raping women and men, and then leaving the body, alive, with its latest victim, to be found by the police. In addition to being creative, it was also intelligent, and that seemed to worry everyone the most.

Sam gave him half a stack of papers and took another half himself. Many of the papers were copies of handwritten text, some were typed on a machine and others looked relatively new. Jensen couldn’t read the original title, but it seemed to be a translation of some book about witches. He showed to Dean anything he found that could be of interest.

They took turns, reading, sleeping, making food, but after a bit more than a day and a half they were pretty sure they knew who it was. Asmodai. The book about witches said he was a demon of lust, but every other book had something else written; he was the demon of gambling, the leader of armies, son of Adam… and Jensen wasn’t sure how they knew what’s true and what wasn’t. Sam said that sometimes it didn’t matter. There were things you needed to confirm as truth or lie, because they could cost you your life, but all the other ones were irrelevant, if they couldn’t stop you from defeating it. Dean said it wouldn’t matter anyway if they could rebuild “the damn colt” and Bobby and Sam sighed in synch.

They were sure it was the demon they were looking for when he was linked to king Solomon as the demon who might have once possessed him. It would explain the intelligence and the artistic torture.

Jensen closed the book feeling satisfied and happy with awesome work they did and wanted to ask what comes next, when he saw Dean frowning. Bobby was looking at Dean expectantly and Sam was looking out the window. They really weren’t good at the whole avoidance thing.

“What’s wrong?”

Dean finally looked at him. “This is more dangerous than we thought.”

“Ok?”

Dean scratched his neck.

“What boy wonder is trying to say here,” Bobby joined in, giving Dean a pointed look, “is that I can’t do this alone. I need him with me.” Something was left hanging in the air but Jensen didn’t know what it was until he heard Sam talk.

“And me.”

Bobby didn’t say anything but Dean didn’t seem to have problem talking any more. “No. You can forget it, Sammy. You haven’t been on a hunt in almost two years, I’m not gonna have you…”

“I haven’t been on a hunt in almost four years when you picked me up from Stanford, don’t give me that crap.”

“You’re…”

“Boys!” Bobby’s voice was as commanding as Dean’s got sometimes. Jensen wondered if it was a hunter thing. “Take it outside. Now.”

Dean looked confused but obeyed, and Sam followed even more reluctantly but in the end it was just Bobby and him in the room. Silence was deep.

Jensen sat feeling a bit like a chided boy. Until Bobby brought him a glass of whiskey that is. “You know what you got yourself into here, kid?”

Jensen looked up at him wondering what he meant exactly. Dean? Demon? Meeting Bobby?

The answer was pretty much “no” for all of them. Bobby must have seen it somehow because he frowned even deeper.

“Lemme tell you something.” Bobby leaned in from where he was half sitting on the desk, and Jensen swallowed, suddenly afraid for his life. “If you’re just messing with that boy, if this is some kind of stupid game for you, I will break every single bone in your body and throw you into hell alive myself. I promise you that.”

Jensen nodded, eyes like saucers and his chest tight. “I… I’m not. I wouldn’t.” His fingers fiddled with papers in front of him.

He didn’t know how much Bobby would want to hear, but then Dean and Sam saved him by walking in and killing the conversation. Sam was smiling victoriously and Dean had a frown the size ofGrand Canyon. _Guess that means Sam’s going._

__

They knew the demon was afraid of water, so it moved avoiding it. That limited it somewhat and they were pretty sure they knew where it’d go next. They had two days to get there and Jensen was shipped to LA unceremoniously and before he could manage to force Dean into a proper goodbye.

He spent New Year’s Eve in a bar with Chris, Steve and Jason, drinking like he never did without Dean there to take care of him, making a mess of the cab and the carpet and finally the toilet. He sent Dean a message, while he was still able, _Happy New Year,_ and when he went to sleep at 6 that morning there was still no reply and anyway, the message was pending.

It was three more days before he started calling. Dean, Sam, Shelly. She cried on the phone and cursed and hung up on him.

Two days later he called his grandmother. She told him she would pray.

On Monday he sat on the plane and went to Bobby’s. He broke in, just like Dean taught him, and sat in the dusty house surrounded by protective symbols on the walls until he fell asleep, his head on a stack of books.

He woke up because someone was looking at him. He opened his eyes, suddenly remembering where he was and why, and looked around to see who was there. Bobby was leaning on the doorframe, slightly rougher for the wear but alive. And alone. Jensen was still on the floor and he looked up before he asked, he wanted to know.

“Where… where is he?”

Bobby looked almost like he was smiling. “He’s on his way to LA. Or maybe already there. Grabbed Sam and left without saying goodbye.”

 _Sounds familiar_ “So, he’s ok?”

“Mostly. A few bruises and cuts but nothing worse than what he’s had before.”

Jensen nodded but didn’t stop biting his lip. He needed to see. To make sure. And then he would kill him.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“No. No thank you. I think I’m just gonna go. I um, need to use the toilet first.”

When he came back and picked up his jacket Bobby was standing there, cup in each hand and pushing one at Jensen anyway. He took a sip. It might have been scalding, some pain registered somewhere, but he wasn’t really sure.

“He had no way to contact you.”

Jensen wasn’t sure what he was taking about at first but when it registered he smirked _. It’s the 21 st century, there’s always a way._

But Bobby shook his head, reading his thoughts yet again. “We followed the damn thing to the middle of nowhere. No signal, no payphones, no people. Took us days to trap it. Even longer to find an exorcism that worked. Dean was pissed. It’s been quite a while since I’ve seen him like that.”

Jensen nodded. Understanding. But for some reason still feeling all wrong.

“Some days it’s like this. Being a hunter is hard. Being a hunter and trying to build a life with someone who’s not? Next to impossible.”

Jensen raised his head in defiance. “So you’re saying I should dump him, is that it?”

“No boy, I’m saying you don’t take this away from him just because it’s hard on you.”

“I wouldn’t! I didn’t. I never said anything. And I wasn’t about to. What, I can’t worry? Should I act like I don’t give a damn? Would that be all right by everyone?!” His voice rose by the end of the sentence but Bobby was just looking at him with all the patience in the world. “I’m sorry about your door.” Clearly, the older man didn’t see _that_ coming. “I tried to do it like Dean said but I may have messed up your lock some anyway.”

Bobby’s grimace looked a lot more like smile this time and Jensen took that as his cue to go.

“You’ve got cobweb in your hair. Take it out and get out. He’s waiting for you.”

\--

The house was empty. Dean tried to figure out what that meant. Was he out with friends? Did he go back to see his family? Dean had tried calling when the battery started charging but Jensen’s cell was off.

He tried to calculate how angry Jensen might be over this but it usually exceeded any number he could think of.

He showered and lay on the couch in sweats and a shirt that might have been Jensen’s. He couldn’t remember any more. And waited until exhaustion took him.

He woke up as soon as the key hit the metal of the knob and by the time Jensen came in he was trying to get up and open his glued eyes so he didn't fall over the coffee table.

Before he could manage though, he was pushed into the couch with Jensen all around him, kissing him and rubbing his face on Dean’s cheeks and nose and neck. Dean took it and waited for the enthusiasm to pass and the anger to take over so he could start explaining but it never happened.

What did happen was that Jensen whispered “so worried” and Dean started just like he’d practiced, “I’m sorry…” but Jensen shook his head and said “No, it’s ok.”

And in what universe was _that_ ok? He pulled Jensen away to look at him and sure as hell, no anger. “I don’t mean to push my luck but how the hell is it ok?”

Jensen bit into his lip and sat on the other end of the couch. “Well. I know I wasn’t supposed to do it but other than you and Sam there isn’t anyone else I know and Shelly wasn’t talking to me and probably didn’t know anyway and it was like a week and the message was pending and I thought how nobody’d ever call me if anything happened not that I wanted to think anything did but…”

Dean couldn’t even begin to follow. He laid a finger on Jensen’s lips. “Breathe. What did you do, Jensen?”

“Fine but if you get mad at me I will… _I_ will disappear for a week so you see how you like it.”

Dean sighed and put a hand on Jensen’s calf, reassuring him.

“Iwent’bobbys”

“You what?” He couldn’t have heard that right.

“I went to Bobby’s.” Jensen was biting his lip now, clearly torn between being sorry and not giving a fuck.

“What did you do there?”

“I um, I broke in. I was gonna wait till the morning, maybe a bit longer, I don’t know, and then look through his stuff to find someone who might know what happened.”

He seemed to have settled on not giving a fuck. Dean on the other hand was proud and happy and loved and choosing between neither.

He grabbed Jensen and pulled him back on top of himself and kissed him long and deep until they both needed to breathe and they pulled away looking at each other.

“So you know what happened?”

Jensenshrugged. “Bobby said you didn’t have signal or any other way to call.”

“Pretty much. Fucking demons.”

“Were you hurt?”

“Some tossing and flying and bad landing. Nothing’s broken but will probably be purple for a while.”

Then he noticed something around Jensen’s neck and he pulled on it until it fell out of the shirt into his hand. “Bobby gave it to me.”

Dean touched the charm against possession and smiled, thanking Bobby silently.

“Are you sleepy?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Me too. Will you tell me everything that happened when we wake up?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. Lets go sleep then.”

**

The first day Jensen went back to work Dean bought a notebook and copied all his contacts, highlighting red the ones that might know anything if something happened to him on a hunt, and gave it to Jensen.

**

It seemed Christian Kane thought Dean should somehow care about his opinion.

Dean had developed a certain fondness for the man as soon as he figured out he was an idiot but wanted only good for Jensen. But it didn’t extend to having to justify himself to the man, and certainly not beg his forgiveness.

Now they were sitting across from each other and Kane was acting like a jilted boyfriend. Ignoring him as much as possible and snorting or jumping in every time Dean said something.

He tried to be polite for Jensen’s sake but when he saw that even Jensen was getting irritated by it, he gave up.

“You have a problem, Kane?”

“Yeah, Winchester, I have a problem. Where the hell were you on New Year’s? Huh? Cause I know where Jensen was and you sure weren’t with him.”

“No. I wasn’t.” Dean leaned back, waiting for whatever comes next and put a hand on Jensen’s thigh to stop him from saying anything. Kane had to learn his place in life.

“So where the hell were you?”

“None of your business.”

“Oh it’s my business. Jen’s my best friend, and you’re…”

“Really? Your best friend.” Dean lowered his voice as he let the silent rage from two weeks ago grow inside him.

Kane looked at him like he was an idiot. “Yeah. My best friend.”

“Is that why you spent the whole New Year’s Day with him after that night? Called him all the time to make sure he was ok? Asked what was bothering him? Made sure he didn’t drown in his own vomit when he got home?”

Kane was looking around slightly embarrassed now and Jensen was stiff as a statue next to him.

“Please, tell me, Kane, which of those things did you do? How, exactly, did you help your _best friend._ ”

The man’s embarrassment didn’t last nearly long enough. He puffed up and leaned towards Dean to say, “Jen knows he can always call me and tell me what’s wrong. If he wanted to talk all he had to do was ask. _My_ phone is never turned off.”

“Dean, c’mon, don’t.”

“No, Jensen, I’m sorry but I don’t get it. He’s all righteously pissed at me now but when I was gone he never once called you. When I came back he didn’t come to your apartment and try to break my balls. No, he waits till we’re all here, in a bar, so he can make a big public spectacle of how great a friend he is. What? Tell me it’s not true?”

Kane was looking at Jensen, obviously expecting to have his honor defended but Jensen looked down at his bottle and shrugged instead.

Steve was the first one to say something. “It’s just… you’re always in perfect control, man. Even when you’re totally wasted you’re still walking and not making an idiot out of yourself. I guess we just forgot.”

“Man, we forgot nothing, he can call any time he wants…”

“He shouldn’t have to call, Chris. That’s the point.” Steve leaned towards Dean. “We used to live together, all of us, and Jason. And things like comfort and friendship came naturally. You’re in each other’s spaces so much you don’t even have to think about it, much less _try._ And I guess, since we scattered, we sort of forgot to start doing it again.”

Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry, Jen.”

Dean looked at Sam, who nowadays spent hours on the phone with Dean, and sometimes Jensen, telling them his saga with Shelly, who wasn’t sure if she wanted to be with him or not any more, and Sam was about fed up with the drama.

For all he sometimes faked passing out, and was teaching Jensen to deepen his voice a bit so he could talk to Sam instead, he couldn’t even imagine coming down to LA one day and finding Sam alone and not knowing what happened.

Sam smiled at him and it seemed like they were on the same page for once.

Kane frowned at his glass for a long time before he pushed away with a “Whatever.” and went to get himself another drink.

“He’ll come around, just…”

“Give him time, yeah, I know.” Jensen smiled at Steve and put his hand on Dean’s thigh and Kane spent the rest of the night pretty much silent which was just fine with Dean.

\--

Jensen flinched from the pain in his lip when his teeth finally let go.

It was a bad week. Jessica and Michael were exhausting him, their drama had seeped into the entire crew and nobody felt comfortable when they were on set any more.

Dean was on a hunt and said he'd come back today but hadn't called to confirm and he was worried but not allowed to show it to anyone. He wasn't supposed to have a boyfriend. And he knew _why_ that rule existed, hell he was the one who instated it. But some days he just wanted to be able to say "I'm fucking nervous cause my boyfriend hasn't called me!" and not have it turn into an article his grandma could read.

Of course, today perfectly underlined the whole crappy week. Just a day before his birthday. A full month to April and the hiatus and there were already "strong rumors" going around that the show wouldn't be picked up for another season. That meant another job, possibly another city. _Possibly Dean not wanting to follow_.

And Jensen bit into his lip again.

Dean came home some five minutes after him. Jensen was battered and bruised from a stunt gone wrong, and Dean was practically slouching from pain in his back after five days on a hunt and a particularly bad throw against a cupboard. They barely looked at each other before they fell into bed, filthy as they were, and fell asleep.

He was awoken by warm lips against his neck and arms pulling him closer.

"We need to shower."

"Then we'll have to change the sheets."

"Hm."

Dean flicked the tip of his ear with a wet tongue, making Jensen rub his ass harder against his sleepy cock. A hand slid down his boxers, grasped his dick and started stroking him awake slowly.

Jensen’s mind reeled.

He knew Dean was ok with this arrangement. He’d made the decision to move in with Jensen all on his own. But if Jensen had to move to another place… It’s not that Dean would mind moving, hell, he traveled all the time anyway. But he might not want to do it for the principle. For not wanting to be dragged around. For being too far from people he loved. He could decide to try the long distance thing again. And man, Jensen hated the long distance thing. If Dean was a talker, maybe, but as it was… it was just painful and frustrating.

If he could get a job in LA, Dean would come with him, for sure. But there was no guarantee that any job would have the budget to stay there. And what if he moved down and then mid season they moved him again. Dean wasn't a puppy, he wouldn't just follow him around wherever he went. But Jensen's life couldn't be stationary. Even if he found a job in LA now it didn't mean...

"Jensen?"

"Um... Yeah?"

"Is something wrong?"

"No, no man, it's great, go on."

Dean pulled his hand out of Jensen's boxers and only then Jensen realized he wasn't even a little bit hard. _Crap._

"So I guess I'm just not doing it for you any more?"

"What? No, no, it's not that at all!"

He scrambled to sit thinking Dean was gonna get up and leave any minute now but when he turned to his idiot boyfriend he was faced with a grin he could only name _sweet_ in his head.

"Asshole."

Dean smiled wider and more wicked. "I was hoping but it's not working. So tell me what's wrong instead."

Jensen rubbed his forehead and looked at the sheet below his legs. "It's nothing."

Dean's arm came around his legs and he was pulled down into strong arms. Jensen lay stiff on his back in the embrace, his head on Dean's arm and Dean looking down on him. He started nibbling on the side of his thumb but sighed and gave up when Dean took his hand and continued nibbling on the finger himself.

"The show might be over this season."

"Shit. I'm sorry, man."

"Yeah."

"But you're great, Jensen, you will find something else."

Jensen looked up at him and kissed him sloppily on the chin. "Maybe. But I don't know where."

"Anywhere." Dean smiled at him.

"But what if it's not in Vancouver or LA. What if it's in, I dunno, New York or ... Arkansas?"

"What show is made in Arkansas?"

"Not the point, Dean. It won't be here."

"And that will be a problem?"

Jensen looked down at his fingers touching Dean's neck. "Won't it?" His voice was so quiet he wasn't sure Dean could hear it.

“No?”

“But, will you… you know, want it to be long distance again?”

“I think we established pretty firmly I can’t do phone sex. So, no.”

_Does that mean you’ll come with me or break it off completely?_

__

“So…”

“What’s the problem, Jensen? Why would I want it to be long distance, will they make you sleep in a tent? With only enough room for one?”

He knew Dean was trying to joke so he laughed but the hollow sound only made Dean frown.

_I don’t wanna ask. I really, really don’t wanna ask. I do not. Want. To. Ask._

__

“Jensen? Do you think I’m here because I love sushi?”

“You hate sushi!”

“That’s true. I also hate the damned filthy rain that makes me wash the car every week. And the fact that I actually had to forge a passport and now have it checked up at least two times a month.

Jensen nodded, yeah, he knew all these things.

“So you know, maybe the beautiful wildlife of British Columbia is not why I’m here?”

 _Yes, thank you, little helper._ “I know, but this is different.”

“How?”

“Oh come on, Dean! You can’t seriously tell me you’re all right with just packing your stuff and coming after me like a … nineteenth century wife!”

“I was thinking more in the lines of twenty first century boyfriend but ok. You know I don’t care where I live.”

“That’s not true. You want to be relatively close to Sam and Bobby and this isn’t exactly close but it’s closer than some places. And if I have to go to like, Hawaii, you’ll have to fly and what about the Impala?”

“Well, I’ll be heavily sedated for the flight. Or I’ll take a ferry… are there ferries to Hawaii? They’d take the baby too. We can buy a powerboat! Or something.”

Jensen smiled at his excitement and ramble and shook his head. _Crazy._

__

“Besides, why would I want to be closer to Bobby or Impala… I’ll give you Sammy though, but something can be worked out there, than you?”

“Because you love them.” And the words sort of slipped out without his control but it was too late to pull them back when he saw Dean’s smile disappear.

Dean moved so his forearm was under Jensen's head but the rest of him was looming over.

“I didn’t mean…” _Shit. What?_

"Christ, Jensen.” Dean’s fingers touched his face like he never saw him before. “I thought you knew?"

Jensen was confused but there was a look of worry and disbelief on Dean's face he just couldn't identify so he tried to speak again. “I know they…” _This isn’t working._

Dean bowed his head so their cheeks were touching and mouthed his ear. "I thought you knew even if I didn't say it."

Jensen was about to shake his head to say he had no idea what Dean was talking about, when a whisper touched his ear.

"I love you."

He turned his head so fast his nose hurt when it hit Dean's head. Jensen knew, of course he knew Dean loved him. He wouldn't be here otherwise.

Except maybe he didn't, really, because hearing the words made a thousand tiny fears in him just disappear, unclenching his lungs and his heart and he took a clear, deep breath for the first time since he said them himself and got no answer.

"I want to be with you, little pillow. I thought you knew that."

"I did. I thought I did."

Dean was looking a little bit lost and Jensen rubbed their noses together to make him look up.

"I love you too."

Dean's smile lit up the room. "I never doubted it."

Jensen giggled and nipped his jaw. “So you’ll come with me?”

“To Hawaii?”

“To wherever.”

“Yeah. I’ll come with you.”

\--

Dean sat on the couch and pressed into Jensen as Chris mocked his way through a proper country song, making him cringe and laugh at the same time.

It was Jensen’s birthday and somehow Chris and Steve managed to find the Jason guy and get him up to Vancouver, and Dean invited Sam. It was small but drunk and fun and seemed to be just what Jensen needed.

Chris did come around with time. In fact he came around to Vancouver. Apparently the guy did nothing half way. He was there for Jensen now when Dean had to go away, and Dean didn’t know what Jensen told him, but Chris never brought it up again.

He seemed less cocky now that he wasn’t trying to play the best friend, but actually was one. It helped Dean see why Jensen was his friend in the first place, and the grand calming of nerves made them respect, if not like, each other.

Jensen turned to him and rubbed their lips together, causing catcalls and whistling and they both gave them the finger without breaking apart. Ever since this morning, when Dean had finally broken through his walls and said that he loved him, Jensen couldn’t stop kissing him. Not that Dean complained, but it was an interesting side effect.

He placed his hand on Jensen’s nape and leaned back, letting Jensen settle against him, so they listened to the music, and every now and then, Jensen would join in the singing or with the guitar.

Dean slipped back into the morning, with Jensen warm next to him, smelling like everything Dean had missed for the past five days, telling him he thought was second in Dean’s heart to all the things and people that Dean knew before they’d met.

Dean never put Sam on the list of things he loved. If people asked him who his favorite people in the world are, he might even not mention Sam. Because Sam just was. There was no question about it.

However, Dean couldn’t spend his life living with Sam, and some day his wife, taking care of his children and grandchildren like a creepy uncle who could never quite make it on his own.

But Jensen, with his not at all quiet acceptance of everything that Dean was, incredible humor and tiny bouts of neurosis and flare for drama that assured Dean he never could have been anything other than an actor, and his heart our on his sleeve just for Dean… he came before everything else.

He turned his face in Jensen’s hair and closed his eyes listening to Jason sing. The man had a pretty good voice. If only the songs were better.

It was the knowledge that he somehow completely missed showing Jensen what he means to him that had the words finally spill out that morning. He wasn’t even thinking about saying them, just _how did I mess it up so badly_.

Jensen took a sip of his beer and looked at him with sparkly, drunken eyes and leaned in for another kiss. Taste of beer is generally better when taken from a bottle. Dean pushed him away and turned him to the guitar again. Jensen pinched him.

And now with the kissing. After about half a day Dean realized Jensen kissed him every time he wanted to say “I love you” again, but stopped himself thinking, correctly, Dean would not be as thrilled about it. _How about we start with once a year and work our way up?_ Yeah, Jensen would have loved _that._

__

At some point of the night Sam disappeared to their bedroom and Dean let him take a moment, but when half an hour passed he went to check up on him.

When he came into the bedroom Sam was sprawled all over the bed. He flopped down next to him and pushed their shoulders together.

"Hey man."

"Hey."

"How are you doing Sammy?"

“Drunk.”

Dean laughed. “Yeah, I noticed. But how you doing in general?”

He knew Sam was back with Shelly, under the condition they take it way slower, because whatever she thought she was ok with, apparently she wasn’t. Dean worried.

Sam turned to look at him and smiled that new, happier version of their usual smirks they were both discovering recently.

"I'm doing good Dean. I got what I wanted. I have a life now."

Dean nodded. That was important. That Sam was good.

"And I have you in it."

Dean looked over.

"I missed you, Dean. The two years we didn't talk... they were crap. There was this life happening around me, to me, and you weren't there to see it. I wanted you to know when big things happened. I wanted you to know when nothing happened. I wanted you to be proud of me for whatever I managed to accomplish."

Dean swallowed. He wondered, sometimes, if his brother ever thought of him back then, or if he had just stuffed everything that came with their lives into a huge box and shoved it away never to be looked at again.

"I've always been proud of you Sammy. You did your own thing no matter what. That took guts. The way you left… it sucked. Suddenly being alone after so many years of being a brother. But knowing what you wanted and going for it, how could I blame you for that? I am proud of you."

Sam’s eyes were slightly out of focus but Dean still saw the gratitude in them. "I was proud of you for coming here with Jensen. It was like the bravest thing I ever saw you do."

Dean laughed silently. "No, that was sheer stupidity. I just got lucky."

Sam laughed back at him. They looked at each other and a thousand more words were said. About pride and love and family and sticking together. The moment passed but wasn't forgotten. All the words, spoken and silent, left their beauty marks in the right places.

Dean's mouth twitched. "Don't get me wrong, Jensen's a great guy. But his dick is so unfortunately small."

Sam laughed at him as Jensen threw _someone's_ filthy socks at them from the doorway.

**

It was morning when they finally fell into bed. Sam was asleep on the couch in the living room and everyone else got rooms in the same hotel that held Jensen’s apartment.

Dean curled around Jensen and heard the happy sigh before Jensen’s ass rubbed against his dick. He laughed into Jensen’s nape and kissed down the shoulders. “You sure you’re awake enough for that?” Jensen’s arm came around and held Dean’s ass in place as he rubbed against him. “Yeah. Pretty sure.”

The arm holding Jensen close moved a bit and he gave one of his nipples a sharp twist. Jensen gasped but the nipple hardened and Dean smiled.

"You're disturbingly responsive, you know that?"

Jensen moaned a bit in answer and Dean kept on playing with the sensitive tip, letting Jensen move into him as much as he wanted to.

Then he slipped Jensen's boxers down all the way and reached for the lube to slick his cock with. What was left on the hand he spread over and around the entrance to Jensen's ass but did nothing else.

"Dean." There was slight fear in Jensen's voice but excitement won out.

"I stop the second you say, baby."

He let his fingers wander, rubbing Jensen's nipples, drawing more gasps, touching the head of the beautiful cock and lifting the heavy sac. One hand pulled Jensen's leg up to his chest, opening him up perfectly. He lined up his cock to the hole and pushed in just the tiniest bit, then held on to his dick and tried not to move his hips.

"Do it, Jensen, your pace, c'mon."

Jensen moaned and threw his head back a bit opening the side of his neck to Dean's teeth and lips.

As minutes passed tiny beads of sweat were forming on Jensen's forehead and Dean kissed them away, praising him as he moved slowly, relaxing his muscles, taking the head in, moving back for more. Dean's fingers found Jensen's cock again, started a slow glide up and down, just giving a hint of what could be.

Dean was shaking with the need to move by the time he was settled into Jensen, and he could feel Jensen's heartbeat around his cock.

"Jesus Jensen, could you _be_ any tighter."

“Shut up asshole. Feels like a fucking truncheon up my ass.”

“Well, it’s only normal.” Dean’s smirk would have earned him a pinch or a slap if only Jensen could move without shifting his ass.

Dean _needed_ to move but waited for Jensen. He nibbled tiny freckles on the shoulders and kept up the light stroking on Jensen’s cock.

Jensen started moving, slowly, controlling his breathing until Dean ran a long stripe of nails down his back. He whined quietly into the pillow and moved faster, and Dean was done waiting. He held Jensen’s hips and started fucking, slow but deep, watching Jensen’s teeth pull on the pillow and listening to the broken gasps pushing him on.

Jensen’s ass was milking him every time he pulled out and held him firm when he came back in. He silenced his own moans in the skin of Jensen’s neck before he let his teeth grab and hold Jensen in place by the nape. He heard Jensen gasp at that and his movements sped up, becoming harder, faster, pushing Jensen into the mattress, into his stroking hand.

He was hitting the perfect spot with every push and Jensen was barely holding his moans silent when Dean leaned over and licked his ear before he whispered, “I love you.”

Jensen came, shouting behind Dean’s hand covering his mouth and Dean let himself enjoy the completely relaxed body for a while longer before he came too, Jensen’s sweat on his tongue and hundreds of freckles dancing before his eyes.

When they switched the lights off, Jensen turned into his arms and Dean saw green eyes shine with happiness in the moonlight. As they were drifting off to sleep, silence was broken by whispers.

_I love you… I love you… mine… yes… yours… forever._

  
~The End~  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's no official soundtrack for this fic but Kubb - Wicked Soul & Ethel Waters - Stormy Weather go well with it.

**Author's Note:**

> Jensen had a thing with a 30+ year old photographer when he was 15, it was just kissing and taking photos, but it left him with some issues. And the way Dean handles it is good for Jensen in the story, but possibly not the most "good" reaction to have in real life.


End file.
